


Shooting Stars

by Erulisse17



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: AU after 2x20, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Veronica is a reporter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erulisse17/pseuds/Erulisse17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing intrepid reporter Veronica Mars expected to see when following her latest lead was Logan Echolls. When he comes to to her for help, she believes him, but doesn't trust him. After all, he may have grown into a relentlessly charming CEO, but he was still the one who broke her heart. And people like that don't change - can't change.<br/>...Right?<br/>(Spoilers up to 2x20, then AU from there)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm running from nothing

“C’mon, Cravinski, give me the money shot.” Veronica muttered as she stared through the lens of her camera. The portly man looked around furtively, then got out of his car and scurried down a dark alleyway. Sighing loudly, Veronica followed suit and positioned herself behind a large bush, biding her time until Cravinski met his next client. He made a call, then lit a cigarette while he waited. She snapped a few pictures just in case they were relevant, or could be used in an anti-smoking campaign somewhere in the paper.

 

She could just see it now - _Don’t smoke, kids, or you too will become an overweight bookie deep in the mob’s pocket. Just say no!_

 

He looked up as someone else came down the alley, then started making gestures as he spoke. Veronica tried to shift around to see who he was meeting with, wondering why the rich denizens of Palm Valley didn’t try to spruce up their shady alleyways with bright lampposts. Maybe some crystal chandeliers, while they’re at it.

 

Palm Valley was about an hour away from Neptune, but between the elaborate movie-star mansions and the seedy underbelly, sometimes she felt like she had never left. But it had a nationally acclaimed newspaper, people didn’t recognize her on the street, and she could pick her own assignments, so while it wasn’t home, at least it wasn’t Neptune.

 

Figuring she’d just have to risk it in order to see who Cravinski was talking to, Veronica crouched down and dashed to the next set of shrubbery for a better angle. She paused, hoping they hadn’t noticed her, then cautiously poked her lens through the leaves and leaned in to get a better look at Cravinski’s client. It was a good thing it was resting on a branch, because she nearly dropped her camera when his face swam into view.

 

Logan Echolls.

 

What the hell was he doing here? Last she heard, he was up in Silicon Valley, pretending not to run the tech company he had bought with his inheritance. It was doing well too, which everyone contributed to the acuity of his advisors, but she knew better.

 

After only a moment of hesitation, she began clicking away, capturing Cravinski talking to Logan, waving his hands at Logan, handing him a manilla envelope with Logan giving him a dark look, Cravinski poking Logan in the chest while Logan’s fists tightened noticeably, then waving goodbye with a mocking smile. She turned her camera to follow Cravinski to his car, watching him chuckle to himself, clearly pleased with how everything turned out.

 

Once the goon had driven off, she swivelled back for a dramatic picture of Logan, standing backlit in a dark side street, face hardened with resolve and - wait, where did he go?

 

Veronica looked up from her camera, trying to figure out where the subject of her movie-poster worthy photo had gone.

 

“Veronica Mars. As I live and breathe.” A familiar sardonic voice came from behind her.

 

Wincing, she plastered a fake smile as she turned. “Logan Echolls! Fancy seeing you here!”

 

He matched her tight smile. “Fancy that, indeed. How long has it been?”

 

She pursed her lips and grit out, “Clearly not long enough.”

 

He tilted his head. “So. Out for a midnight stroll? Or perhaps just a late night stalk?”

 

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she replied, “You know, I’m all about taking pictures of the stars. They’re just so pretty.” She bat her eyelashes for effect.

 

“Their kids too, eh?” He winked.

 

Before she could come up with a suitable rejoinder, Logan yawned, stretched, then said, “Well, you better come in and have a drink.”

 

Thrown, she simply repeated, “Have a drink?”

 

“Sure. I mean, after all, we both know that tomorrow you’ll hunt me down, probably in some public area, and accuse me of a variety of crimes I didn’t commit. I figure, why not do it from the comfort of my couch with some alcohol to ease the pain?”

 

Blinking, she watched him saunter off toward one of the houses down the street. He made it to the middle of the road before he looked over his shoulder and called out a single word.

 

“Coming?”

 

So she somehow found herself in Logan Echolls’ surprisingly modest house in the middle of the night, sipping a snifter of brandy as he settled himself in a large armchair.

 

“So, fire away, Mars. What heinous deeds have I committed lately? Kidnapping puppies? Littering on the freeway? Oh, please say I stole the Declaration of Independance. I’ve only got one more to go before I get Blamed by Mars Bingo.” He smirked at her as he held his drink at a jaunty angle.

 

Veronica tapped her finger against her chin in mock thought. “Strange, I just got this song stuck in my head. It goes something like, ‘You’re so vain, you probably think this story’s about you…’”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Alright then. Who’s it about?”

 

She swirled the drink in her glass while she considered. It not that she didn’t trust Logan… it’s more like she didn’t trust anyone, especially not with her stories. But when she looked up, she saw more in his eyes than biting sarcasm. An intensity that was easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it - which Veronica was.

 

“Cravinski.” She heard pop out of her mouth, and Logan looked as surprised as she felt.

 

Furrowing his brows, Logan leaned forward. “What’d he do to earn the wrath of Mars?”

 

Annoyed, she glanced to the side. “Nothing yet. I know he’s connected to the Fitzpatrick branch out here, he runs numbers, and I think he’s somehow involved in drug dealing, but I can’t catch him doing anything.” Her eyes flicked to the manilla envelope Logan had dropped on the table. “Unless he’s added blackmail to the list.”

 

Logan protectively moved the envelope closer, clearly unwilling to explain. Shrugging slightly, Veronica took a moment to look around the room. This was… strangely middle-class of him.

 

“I didn’t know about this place.” She remarked, trying to memorize everything about it.

 

He shifted in his seat. “No one does. It’s in my uncle’s name.”

 

Of course. Definitely his maternal uncle, since anything with the Echolls’ name attached received national attention. His own little suburban getaway. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t known he had property in Palm Valley. If she didn’t know better, she’d say she was getting rusty.

 

When she met Logan’s gaze, she was unsettled to see him grinning. “Admit it. You’re annoyed that I successfully kept a secret from the all-knowing Veronica Mars.”

 

Trying to hide the twitch of irritation that would prove him right, she stood up and looked down the hallway. “Where’s your bathroom?”

 

He raised both eyebrows. “Are you going to actually use the bathroom, or just snoop?”

 

She attempted to look offended. “Snoop? I would never stoop to snoop. I’m just asking because I need to-”

 

“If you make that rhyme, I’m kicking you out.” He interrupted, then got up. “Here. I’ll show you the way.”

 

He led her down the hall to a nondescript white door. “There you are.”

 

She walked in, then turned back as he continued to stand there. “Are you going to wait for me?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t want you getting lost. You know, you have a habit of accidentally stumbling into people’s rooms.” He gave her a sarcastic smile.

 

She affected a look of injured innocence. “What, little old me?”

 

When he simply stared at her, she dropped the act and said, “Fine, but you really need to go. I get pee shy.” She gave him a light shove, then closed the door.

 

She honestly had every intention of simply using the bathroom, and not sneaking anywhere. But when she came out the living room and Logan was gone, she called his name once, then old habits took over.

 

The manilla envelope was nowhere to be seen, so she wandered around the kitchen, scowling at how clean everything was. Did he hire a service? No guy on earth kept his place this neat. How was she supposed to find anything?

 

Spying a desk in the study, she glanced around, then hurriedly made her way over. After finding nothing but supplies in the drawers, she ran her fingers underneath the top and smiled in triumph when she heard the click of a secret catch.

 

No envelope here either, just a well-worn folder sitting in the middle of a shallow felt-lined drawer. Knowing there was a limited amount of time until Logan came back from wherever he went, she opened the folder quickly and tried to skim through the newspaper clippings.

 

Tried being the operative word, because the instant she saw them, Veronica sat heavily in the chair behind her.

 

“You know, you owe me twenty bucks. I figured you couldn’t wait more than half an hour before you started rifling through my stuff, although I thought you’d go straight for my unmentionables.” Logan remarked casually while leaning against the doorframe.

 

“These are my articles.” Her voice carried no anger, only stunned puzzlement. When she looked up, she saw his eyes widen as he realized which drawer she was looking in. “Everything I’ve ever written. How-”

 

He rushed forward, closing the folder and sliding the secret drawer home in panicked haste. As Logan turned to her, one hand on the desk, the other on the back of her chair, she realized this was the closest they’ve been to each other in years. Since that morning, when Kendall had appeared behind Logan, draping herself possessively over him, derailing Veronica’s confession and dashing any hope either of them had for a fresh start.

 

They both froze at the sudden proximity, her sitting in his too-big chair, him standing inches away.  She was at once very aware of the way his hazel eyes focused intently on her mouth, how she was unconsciously leaning forward, how he smelled of spice and sandalwood, how his breath ruffled her hair.

 

_“I don't want to lose you from my life either. And I'm not saying I'm ready to dive back into anything, but after graduation, let's make it a point to see each other. See where that takes us. I remember what you said about our relationship being epic-”_

 

Kendall’s voice invaded her memory. _“Is that our room service?”_

 

She jumped, startling both of them. “I should… it’s really late.” Logan stood back as she got up, staring at her in a way that made her heart flutter and tighten all at the same time. “I… I’m sorry.” She mumbled, then made her way to the door.

 

The cold air helped calm her nerves, remember why she was here in the first place.

 

Clearing her throat, she slowly faced the entrance, watching Logan keep a deliberate distance between them, although she couldn’t say if it was for his sake or hers.

 

“I… If you ever need-” she quickly traded the word ‘anything’ for something more appropriate, “help, I uh, work at the Mercury.” She fumbled for a card and held it out to him, knowing he clearly was aware of where she worked, but it was something to say, something to do with her hands.

 

Slowly, as if not to frighten her, he stepped past the doorway and took it, fingers careful not to touch her, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

 

“Veronica,” Logan spoke, and she flinched at the weight behind it.

 

“I should go.”

 

And just like every time she got too close to Logan Echolls, she ran before she got burned.

 

When she reached the safety of her car a block away, she leaned back against her headrest and let out a long breath, too full of emotions to name just one, unaware that down the street, a tall silhouette was staring after her, exhaling a heartbreaking sigh of his own.

* * *

_A long time ago, we used to be friends…_

 


	2. No thoughts in my mind

 

“Good morning, Ms. Mars.” The receptionist greeted when she came in.

 

“Di, you know you can call me Veronica, right?” The blonde told her with a half-smile.

 

“Oh please. You’re one of the youngest people to win a Pulitzer Prize, plus you took down a corrupt, molesting college administrator. You’re lucky I’m not calling you Queen Mars.” Diana dished back with a full grin.

 

Veronica laughed as she entered her office and closed the door. She uploaded and clicked through the pictures on her computer from the night before, running through possible phrases and causes she could use in her story. She was still wondering what Cravinski and the Fitzpatricks were really up to when she found herself pausing on a photo with Logan’s face tilted to the side.

 

It was so surreal, how they fell right back into their established roles, the parting jibes, the pointed remarks, just as if nothing had changed. It wasn’t camaraderie exactly, but it was familiar routine in her shiny new life, and that carried a merit all of its own.

 

What was he doing? Cravinski had obviously threatened him, but what for? Money? Debts? Holding up his end of a bargain? She was nearly certain that Logan wasn’t involved with the Fitzpatricks. Nearly.

 

A lifetime of hearing lies and watching heartbreak guaranteed she’d never trust anyone completely, but usually her gut instinct was right. Unless it was wrong.

 

She ran her hands through her hair. What was she doing? Following Logan into his house, snooping (she hated that her brain used his word) in his study. Even her dad didn’t have every single story she’d ever written - not that he wasn’t proud, but he didn’t need meticulous documentation of her achievements. Why did Logan have them all? What did he want with them? What did he want with her?

 

His face appeared in her mind’s eye, brows drawn, eyes steadily staring at her with a combination of hope and need and something else she could (dared) not name.

 

But it had been too long, the chasm between them too wide and full of betrayed trust and broken promises. In high school, it seemed that Logan Echolls wanted nothing more than to destroy himself and take any bystanders down with him - a fact Veronica had to reckon with when she noticed she was the closest one standing by.

 

But now, she knew from her questionably legal methods, he was a successful businessman, with an eye for integrating start-ups that filled technological niches no one had thought of. Granted, he had disappeared off the face of the earth for over a year after graduation, but from all recent, actual accounts (ignoring the photoshopped images and exaggerated stories the tabloids ran when news was slow), he was a mature, confident CEO who filled his life with work, perfectly happy to let everyone think his success stemmed from pure dumb luck.

 

What had changed? Did she even know him anymore? Did he know her?

 

“Ms. Mars?” Diana’s voice brought her back to the present.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Mr. Echolls is here to see you.”

 

An instinctual fear ran through her. “Who?”

 

“Mr. Logan Echolls? He said you’d be expecting him.” She let out a sigh of relief at the first name. “He also said that I could also expect him later on, if I had any interest.” Di waggled her eyebrows as Veronica smiled. Clearly Logan hadn’t changed that much.

 

“Ah, yes. The cream of the Silicon Valley crop. Go ahead and send him in.”

 

“He’s the son of the movie star, right?” Diana leaned forward conspiratorially. “Do you know him?”

 

After sorting through the various answers to that, Veronica went with a blithe smile. “Doesn’t everyone?”

 

Diana shrugged, then gestured to the open door to someone out of sight. As Logan headed for her office, she could see Diana mouthing “He’s hot!” over his shoulder, and Veronica had to resist rolling her eyes.

 

Logan shut the door behind him and flopped into the corner chair as if he owned the place. Which, if the rumors about his company’s yearly earnings were to be believed, he could very easily do.

 

“Nice digs.” He commented as he stretched his hands above his head, and Veronica couldn’t help but notice how his casual cotton shirt rose up to show off his abs.

 

Damn. He had clearly gotten in serious shape since the last time she saw him. His lanky frame had filled out a bit, but if his abs were anything to go by, it was all muscle.

 

She glanced at his face a second too late, and realized he had noticed her staring. A very masculine grin slowly appeared, and he linked his hands together in preparation for another yawn.

 

“Didn’t sleep much?” She commented, then winced at how easy of an opening that was.

 

And Logan Echolls loved taking easy shots. “Nope. This hot blonde kept me up most of the night.” He smirked and affected a southern accent. “What about you? I see some dark circles under those cornflower blue eyes. You not get all your beauty rest?”

 

“You know, I did have trouble getting to sleep.” Obvious glee blossomed over his face until she finished, “Some annoying bug kept droning on and on…”

 

_That’s right, Mars. Pretend that last night was a completely annoying, platonic discussion. Total denial has worked so well for you in the past._

 

When she looked up, she saw Logan walking around her office studiously, glancing at her degree, her pictures, a few of her favorite articles, the framed page of her Pulitzer-winning piece, and the prize itself sitting on top of her filing cabinet. If she wasn’t surreptitiously watching his every movement, she would have missed the genuine smile that flashed across his face at the engraved medal.

 

“I think they like you here,” he commented softly before glancing at her.

 

“Well, that’s only because I send out daily reminders to worship the ground I walk on.”

 

“Ah. I keep forgetting to send mine out. That’s probably why no one likes me.”

 

“You can automate them in your email now.”

 

“Huh. Who knew?”

 

Lulled into the easy rhythm, she grinned at him in enjoyment, then remembered why she was avoiding direct eye contact. While his tone was light, his eyes still carried the intensity that had made her pulse race last night. And right now, come to think of it.

 

Breaking their gaze, Logan sat back down. “So, Veronica, how’ve you been?”

 

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? We’re doing the ‘how’ve you been’s now?”

 

Logan lifted his shoulders carelessly. “Why not? It’s what normal people do, isn’t it?”

 

_Right. Normal. Since when were we ever normal people, Logan?_

 

Shrugging, Veronica figured she might as well roll with it. “Alright. I’ve been good. A bit busy, as you can see.” She indicated the stacks on her desk as well as the whole office.

 

“And your dad?”

 

_Oh wow. Going all out with this normal thing, aren’t we?_

 

She gave a fond smile at the picture on her desk. “He’s doing well. It’s hard keeping him from field work, but between me and Eli, we do-”

 

“Eli? What’s Weevil got to do with this?”

 

“Haven’t you heard? Weevil’s taken over Mars Investigations. Well, trying to, anyway, when Dad isn’t stealing all the good cases.”

 

Logan shook his head. “Who’d have guessed that Weevil would end up as a P.I.?”

 

Veronica smiled proudly. “He’s really good at it. Once he figured out that you shouldn’t beat up the abusive boyfriends until after the case is closed, he took to it like a fish to water.”

 

“Well, it certainly pays to be your friend.” He remarked dryly.

 

Frowning at the slight, she looked up to catch him wince, then say, “I mean, you… you look out for your friends.”

 

She blinked in surprise. Did he just attempt to correct himself? And say something _nice?_ Who was this person and why had they body-swapped with Logan?

 

“I try.” She answered softly, uncertain of the steps involved in this new dance.

 

He gave her a long, measuring stare, then pulled out the manilla envelope from his pocket. He started fiddling with it as he spoke.

 

“Every few months, Trina’s being asking for money. After a while, it became every week, and then nothing. Radio silence for about two weeks, then I get a call from your friend, Cravinski, saying to meet him out here if I want to know what happened to her. Last night, he tells me that she owes the Fitzpatricks money. A lot of it.”

 

He tossed the envelope on her desk. “He says this is what they've done to her boyfriend, and if I don't pay up, what they will do to her.”

 

Veronica opened the envelope and pulled out pictures of a man covered in blood and bruises.

 

“Oh my God,” She murmured as she went through the collection. The last picture had the man holding a sign with “10 grand by next week. or else” scrawled across it.

 

“Well, their penmanship leaves a lot to be desired,” she quipped, then saw Logan's face.

 

“Sorry. What did you want me to do?”

 

“I want you to find out if it's real.”

 

Veronica glanced up. That was not the request she was expecting. “Any reason you think it isn’t? Did she say something when you refused to lend her the money?”

 

“I didn’t refuse.”

 

Veronica eyed him sharply.

 

“I told her I’d happily give her the money on the condition that she take an all-expenses-paid trip to a rehab clinic.” Logan examined the floor briefly before continuing, “I knew she wasn’t doing great, and I figured that was the only real way to help her.”

 

Putting that aside to process later, she asked, “You think it could be a set up? To get the money without going into rehab?”

 

“All I know is that Trina got pretty desperate those last couple weeks, and I’ve never really met her newest boyfriend. And while I’m sure thinking it disqualifies me from the Brother of the Year award, I’ve known her too long to discount it as a possibility. She is an Echolls, after all.” His cynical smile made Veronica’s heart hurt.

 

“Besides, if I’m wrong, we can all go out for ice cream and Disneyland. That’s what real families do, right?”

 

“You know, I hear Harry Potter World is where it’s really at. It’s got a fire-breathing dragon and everything.”

 

Logan shook his head. “I think you’re forgetting, I’ve already met Celeste Kane.”

 

Veronica burst into laughter as a shy grin appeared on Logan’s face. Through the vertical window that framed her office door, she could see Diana lean back in her chair and raise a thoughtful eyebrow.

 

After a few moments, Logan asked quietly, “So, you’ll help?”

 

Veronica nodded. “Of course. Gotta look out for my friends, right?”

 

He stared at her, all sarcasm gone, eyes intent on her face. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

 

Trying to ignore the sudden increase of her heartbeat, and the realization that she didn’t actually know the answer to that, she swallowed.

 

“Yeah.”

 

He looked away too quickly for Veronica to register his reaction, then turned back with a wide smile.

 

“Well, I don’t know about you, friend, but I’m starving. Know any good lunch spots?” He asked lightly.

 

“Depends. Do you like burgers so big you have to unhinge your jaw to eat them?”

 

“Well, since I am part snake, that’s usually how I prefer my food.”

  
Grinning, Veronica grabbed her bag. “C’mon, snake-man. Let’s go grab some grub.”


	3. Oh my heart was all black

“You were not kidding about these burgers.” Logan remarked as he stared at his plate. “This thing is the size of your head.”

 

“I told you! Now, unhinge away.”

 

“I think you’re unhinged enough for the both of us.” He teased.

 

“Ha. Ha.” Veronica deadpanned, then bit her lip. How did he make it so easy to forget about everything that had happened between them? All their baggage, brewing away for eight years, should be weighing on her shoulders, suffocating the conversation, reminding her how bad (and good) everything used to be. She wasn’t going to let one good day make up for years of silence and -

 

“Hey, I’m sorry to hear about your mom.”

 

She looked up, surprised at the gentleness in his voice.

 

“Oh, it’s… Thanks. It didn’t really come as a surprise, since we hadn’t heard from her in years. We’re probably better off.” She attempted a slight smile.

 

“But it still hurts.” He commented softly, staring at the table, and Veronica knew it wasn’t a guess. “No matter what they did later, who they became, you start off as a kid thinking they’re the best people in the world. And when they’re gone, it’s that part of you that misses them. Small as it is, it’s still there.”

 

Shocked at the fact that he had articulated what no one else seemed to understand, and shaking her head because _of course_ he understood, she reached out and laid her hand on top of his. When he met her eyes, she asked in concern, “How are you doing, Logan?”

 

An instant later, his mask was firmly back in place and he chuckled at her, moving his hand away. “You know me, Veronica Mars. I always land on my feet. Business is going well, so they tell me. They keep sending me all these papers with numbers and graphs, but they’re no fun to play connect the dots with.”

 

Sighing in exasperation, Veronica focused on her fries.

 

“Hopefully they’ll throw another party soon. All the meetings they force me to come to are completely boring. I suggested a margarita machine once, but for some reason, they shot it-”

 

“Okay stop.” She commanded in an irritated tone. “I know that’s not true.”

 

Logan frowned. “That what’s not true? They totally did shut my margarita machine idea down.”

 

“That you’re not aware of what’s going on at your own company. We both know that you’re the one actually making decisions about the direction and goals and the technologies you acquire, not just the pretty face for the company.”

 

He affected a pout, “Are you saying my face isn’t pretty?”

 

“I’m saying that Ares Tech was the only company to move away from virtual reality while everyone else tried to cash in. When asked why, one of their top executives said that virtual reality was a technological solution looking for a problem, and people are looking for a way to enhance their lives, not provide alternatives to it. And by one of the executives, they definitely meant you.”

 

“Did they now?” Logan’s voice was low and thoughtful, and Veronica suddenly remembered that she wasn’t supposed to care about what he had been doing the past eight years, let alone know the details of why his company was successful.

 

Logan clearly saw the realization dawn on her face, and made a show of looking around in mock confusion. “Wait, is that the Twilight Zone door? What universe is this? Am I hallucinating, or did Veronica Mars just suggest that, despite rumors to the contrary, she believes the _best_ of me? I’ve got it, I’m being Punk’d, aren’t I? Where’s Ashton?”

 

Veronica shook her head in irritation, then saw the mischief twinkling in Logan’s eyes.

 

“I just don’t understand why you’re trying so hard to make people think you’re this moronic party boy when you’re not.” She muttered, then noticed Logan’s smile soften.

 

“Investors tend to think that the progeny of movie stars don’t have the best ideas about smart financial decisions. They're much more comfortable thinking I'm just there to provide the capital and the fame.” He sounded almost embarrassed, scratching the side of his head.

 

His hazel eyes strangely curious, he observed, “You seem to be the only one who doesn’t buy it.”

 

Startled by his honesty, unsettled by his gaze, she examined the nicks on their table. “I always knew you were smart, Logan. You just never cared…” She meant to add ‘about school’ or ‘grades’, but for some reason, she left the last word hanging in the air.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Logan open his mouth, then close it. He straightened in his chair, then changed the subject.

 

“So what’s the first step for the case?”

 

“Checking on Trina’s last known whereabouts, her financial records, things like that.” Veronica replied, relieved to be back on familiar ground. “Do you know anything about her boyfriend? Name? Job?”

 

He shook his head. “She didn’t really mention any of her boyfriends that much. Probably thought that with dear old Dad rotting away in prison, I’d assume the familial duty of beating them senseless. Not that any of them have that much sense to begin with.”

 

She recognized his airy tone as a cover for the bitter taste any mention of his father left in his mouth, and she tried to offer him something fresh to mull over instead.

 

“Well, I’ll show his picture down at the police station and see if anyone recognizes him.”

 

Logan raised an eyebrow and took the bait. “The station, huh? Got your own version of Lamb out here?”

 

Veronica leaned back. “In a huge karmic balancing act, the police chief actually seems to like me. I helped him figure out a few of the local cops were on the take, and after he went all Old Testament on them, he told me I was welcome there anytime. A few of the officers of the law have somehow resisted my charms and strength of character,” Logan snorted and grinned, “but the ones that don’t like me are scared of me, so it all works out in my favor.”

 

“Well, I’m glad to see you in your natural element, raising hell.” He laughed as he snagged the check before Veronica could even reach for it.

 

As they walked outside, Logan paused, then touched her arm almost tenderly. “Thanks for doing this, Veronica.”

 

Despite the warmth of the afternoon and the leather of her jacket, she could feel the heat of Logan’s touch burning through to her skin.

 

Swallowing, she waited a moment before she answered, “Yeah. Of course.”

 

He flashed her a grateful smile and dropped his hand. She watched him walk down the sidewalk, turning once to wave at her, and absentmindedly bit her lip.

  
_Oh, Veronica Mars,_ she thought. _Even after eight years, you’re still a marshmallow._


	4. But I saw something shine

“Mmmmm. How is their volcano roll so frakkin’ good?” Mac asked rhetorically as she continued to stuff sushi in her mouth.

 

“I can see why this is your favorite place.” Veronica observed as she looked around the restaurant. “You want another cocktail? My treat!”

 

Mac paused, then sat back in her chair. “Wow. This must be a huge favor.”

 

Veronica tried to look surprised. “What? I have said nothing about favors all night.”

 

“Let's recap. You drive out for a surprise visit, take me to my favorite restaurant, and are currently trying to booze me up. Either you need a favor, or you're trying to seduce me.”

 

“Okay, fine. I'll admit it. I’m trying to seduce you. There's a hotel room down the street full of rose petals and champagne, but I just couldn't find the right moment to tell you. Just one thing, I need to be the big spoon. It’s this thing I have.”

 

Mac rolled her eyes and hid a smile. “So, what do you need me to do?”

 

“Financial records.” Veronica explained as Mac furrowed her brows.

 

“That’s not a sushi-worthy favor. You ask me for those all the time.”

 

“I need them for a couple different people.”

 

Shrugging her shoulders, Mac pulled out her phone to take notes.

 

“Okay, first, Trina Echolls, then Ares Technologies.”

 

“Nice! I can see if they’re hiring. Did you know that when they buy a start-up, they bring all the original creators on too? Plus they’re always open to ideas about what kind of projects they should be looking for next. Like, they just bought this one app that detects the difference in your speed and automatically knows when and where you parked, and there’s another one where-”

 

“Mac,”

 

“Sorry. Geek rant over.” She checked her list. “Trina, Ares Tech, anyone else?”

 

Veronica took a moment, (she knew she probably shouldn’t, but when had that ever stopped her?) then added, “Logan Echolls.”

 

Mac stopped, blinked, then slowly looked up. “I’m sorry, that almost sounded like you said Logan Echolls. Like the guy from high school.”

 

Veronica snapped her fingers in false realization. “So _that’s_ where I know him from!  I knew he looked familiar.”

 

After staring at her for a few seconds, Mac picked up her phone, pressed a few buttons, then held it to her ear.

 

“Who are you-” Veronica started, but was interrupted by Mac holding up a finger in the universal gesture of _“Just a second.”_

 

From across the table, she heard a male voice answer. “Hello?”

 

“The bet is still on!” Mac shouted into the phone gleefully.

 

“What?! You can’t be serious.”

 

“She’s sitting right here.”

 

“Give her the phone.”

 

Mac smiled in a catlike manner and held out the phone to Veronica, who could now see Wallace’s picture on the screen.

 

“You know, I don’t think-” She tried, before Wallace called out, “Pick up the phone Veronica!”

 

Sighing, she took the phone and greeted, “Hey Wallace! How’re Francis and Percy?”

 

“You leave the twins out of this. You’re thinking of dating Logan again?”

 

“What? No! He just asked for my help with something, that’s all.”

 

Mac raised a skeptical eyebrow as Wallace sarcastically agreed, “Mm-hmm. Sure.”

 

“Look, I was working on a story, and I happened to run across him purely by-”

 

“Okay, this clearly needs a face-to-face intervention. Where are you?”

 

Veronica stared up at the ceiling in contemplation. “Where are any of us, really? I mean, there are so many spiritual planes we can access-”

 

“Moonlight Sushi on Park and Main.” Mac told him, grinning in response to Veronica’s glare.

 

“I will be there in twenty, and don’t you dare think of leaving.”

 

“No worries,” Mac called out. “I’ve got her.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I can take you, Mac.” Veronica commented as the call ended.

 

“I’m sure you could, but where can you take me if I have your keys?” Mac asked, pulling keys out of her purse with a taunting smile. “Admit defeat, Mars.”

 

“Ugh. So my fate is inevitable as this point, huh?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Well, in that case,” she waved over their waiter. “I will have another Blue Hawaiian, and you may need to keep them coming.”

 

After being sufficiently supplied with alcohol, Veronica inquired, “So what is this bet, exactly?”

 

“Oh, I think it started… senior year? Most of the short-term bets are out of the running, but a few of us played the long odds.”

 

“And that would be…?”

 

“Let’s see, Dick bet you’d coming begging to Logan and/or himself before college graduation.” Mac shook her head, “Don’t ask how he found out. Eli figured it’d take ten years for you to even speak to him again, and your dad-”

 

“I’m sorry, Weevil and my dad are in on this?”

 

“Your dad bet that you two would reconnect during or three years after college, and Wallace-”

 

“I figured you were too smart to ever get caught up with him again, ever.” Her friend said as he hugged both her and Mac.

 

After demands for baby pictures were met and it was established that Mrs. Wendy Fennel was doing great and looked as fine as ever (Wallace’s words), Wallace got down to the matter at hand.

 

“So, question. When Logan asked you to jump, did you actually say ‘How high?’ or was there just an understanding you’d reach maximum vertical velocity?”

 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “There was no jumping involved. He’s connected to a story I’m researching, and he asked me for some help with his sister, that’s all. And when did you start hating Logan so much?”

 

“Oh, I don’t hate him, I just know what happens when you two come anywhere near each other. I thought of you two the other day when I was teaching the class about magnets. Depending on the situation, they either come together,” Wallace mimed the motions with his hands, “or fly apart. Usually with some damage involved. I just hoped you’d figured that out by now.”

 

Sighing, Veronica turned to Mac. “And what was your incredibly intrusive bet on the outcome of my love life?”

 

“That you guys are going to get married.” If Mac hadn’t spoken in such a matter-of-fact tone, Veronica would have thought she was joking.

 

“I’m sorry, _married?_ Is this a game of MASH or what?”

 

“You guys had serious chemistry!”

 

“Really? I was pretty sure we had serious journalism.”

 

Mac shot her a look, then spoke as if she was giving a presentation. “Veronica, let’s look at some statistics.”

 

“Oh boy.” Veronica groaned.

 

“You have self-sabotaged every relationship you’ve been in since you were with Logan.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Wallace jumped in. “This I actually agree with.”

 

Mac held out a finger. “First, there’s Duncan.”

 

“Girl, anyone who has any sort of possibility of being related to you should be off your potential boyfriend list for life.” Wallace commented vehemently.

 

“Then we have that guy from High School Musical you dated in college.” Mac continued counting.

 

“He did not look like-”

 

“And while he was a great guy, you were bored out of your skull, V.” Wallace diagnosed as Mac nodded. “So bored you had to take down a centuries-old secret society just to keep yourself busy.”

 

“And let’s not forget about Seth.” Mac concluded with a dramatic sigh. “The promising young police officer, just recently torn from your bosom.”

 

“You are never allowed to say ‘bosom’ again.” Veronica pointed as she downed the rest of her drink. “And I thought you were glad when Seth and I broke up.”

 

“You guys fought all the time.” Wallace said.

 

“Logan and I fought too!”

 

“Nope. Not the same way.” Mac argued. “You and Logan fought because you both overflowed with passion.”

 

Veronica wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Ew.”

 

Wallace clarified, “You and Seth fought all the time because he was stupid.”

 

“Well, thank you both for that fascinating and unasked for analysis of my dating life, and by thank you, I mean that you are both very lucky my taser is in my other purse. And for your collective information, I am not going to date Logan.”

 

“Care to wager on that?” Mac asked, eyes dancing.

 

“Sure, why not? How much?”

 

“Fifty bucks.”

 

“What? Geez, how much are they paying you over at Kane Software, Money Bags?”

 

“Enough to know that _that’s_ hesitation. Don’t think you can resist his charms? Maybe because you wuv him?” Mac batted her eyes and stuck out her lower lip. “You wuv him very much?”

 

“Fine! Fifty bucks. And I will prove you all wrong by dying happy and alone.”

 

“That’s the spirit!” Mac cheered as she clinked her glass with Veronica.

 

“You don’t get to clink with us, Wallace, because you’re all married and not alone. And you’re a dad now! How weird is that?” Veronica exclaimed, then frowned at her empty glass.

 

“And you don’t get any more drinks,” Wallace told her with a fond smile. “C’mon, I’ll take you girls home. V, I assume you’re crashing at your dad’s place?”

 

“Yup. Since when did you become the responsible friend?”

 

“Since you threatened a gang leader the first day I met you, and I realized the position of ‘Veronica’s voice of reason’ was empty.”

 

“Ha. Ha. Wait, didn’t Lamb tell you to get some guts? So if you’re my brains, and I’m your courage, what does that make Mac?”

 

Mac grinned and threw her arms around both of their shoulders. “Children, please. I am the frakkin’ _Wizard.”_

 

As they laughed in easy camaraderie and walked out to Wallace’s car, Veronica couldn’t help but think about her favorite character from the Wizard of Oz.

 

_Poor Tin Man. Trapped, lost, and all alone._

 

_Searching for a heart to call his own._


	5. Thought that part was yours

_Bzz. Bzz._

_Bzz. Bzz._

_Bzz. Bzz._

 

Veronica blindly flailed through the sheets of her dad’s guest bed to try and grab her phone. The sun was too bright and her head hurt too much to even try and look at the screen.

 

“Mm’ello?” She mumbled, keeping her eyes firmly closed in a vain hope that it was a wrong number and she could still go back to sleep. Instead, she heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end, then silence.

 

“’Oo issit?” She asked, trying to crack one eyelid open.

 

“Good morning, sunshine!” Logan’s too cheery voice greeted suddenly. “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!”

 

“Unless you actually have bacon, that’s a cruel thing to say to someone. Why are you calling me?”

 

“Well, it’s primarily because my day is not complete without a hot blonde murmuring sweet, hungover nothings in my ear.”

 

“Have a lot of incomplete mornings, do ya?” Veronica jibed sleepily, rolling over onto her pillow.

 

There was a slight pause. “Y-”

 

His words finally caught up to her. “Wait, how do you know I’m hungover?”

 

“Are you hungover?” He sounded almost surprised.

 

“...Nope. The seventy-six trombones parading through my brain is a totally normal occurrence.”

 

She could practically hear Logan’s smile. “Ah. I think the drum section got lost outside the mall. I wondered why they looked familiar.”

 

Having used up all her automatic snark, Veronica resorted to repeating herself. “Why are you calling me so early?”

 

“Early? I thought you reporters got up at the crack of dawn to hunt down fresh stories.”

 

“Those are the newbie reporters. Veterans like me have done their time at the ass-crack of dawn, and now we wait for the young ones to bring us their kill.” Veronica yawned as she spoke, and managed to squint over in the direction of the clock.

 

Logan chuckled. “Well, I was thinking that if you weren’t too busy, I could come with you to show those pictures at the station.”

 

The numbers swam into vision. 7:56 am.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Or not, if that disgusts you so.”

 

“No, I’m in Neptune. I’m going to be late and my car is still over at the sushi place.” She sniffed her hair and grimaced. “Ugh. And I need to shower. And scrounge up a change of clothes. Ughhhh.”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“At my dad’s house.”

 

“I’ll pick you up.”

 

“Wait, no, Logan, it’s too far-”

 

“I’m already on my way. Text me the address.” He told her, then hung up.

 

Sighing in a mix of exasperation and relief, Veronica sent Logan the address and hopped in the shower. She ran around with a toothbrush in her mouth and praying her hair wouldn’t frizz as she went through the box of clothes from high school her dad had insisted they keep.

 

 _Nice jeans, nice jeans…_ she chanted to herself as she sorted through the pile. _Black jeans. Close enough._

 

_Polo shirt, green and pink striped shirt, green t-shirt with rainbow, red striped t-shirt, pink t-shirt… black and grey striped t-shirt. Fine. It’ll have to do._

 

She hobbled into the kitchen while zipping up her boots. “Hey Daddy-o, have you seen my leather jacket?”

 

Keith Mars peered over his newspaper at her. “Let me guess, is it black?” He used his glasses to point at her outfit. “Who died? Technicolor?”

 

Veronica glanced down at her outfit. “Okay, you might call it funereal, but I call it ‘ninja chic’. Now, seriously, have you seen it? I’m going to be late.”

 

Her dad used the old parental standby, “Where was the last place you saw it?”

 

“I think I threw it in the living room somewhere last night but I can’t find it and Logan’s picking me up in ten minutes and I’ve already checked my room and-”

 

“Honey, wait, stop!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “What year is it?”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re late, you’ve thrown clothes all over the living room, and Logan is coming to pick you up. I just need to know the year so I can tell how far the wormhole brought me, and how many years I need to go back…” Keith attempted his best Doc Brown voice, “to the future!”

 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “You think you’re so funny. Aha! There it is!” She grabbed her jacket off the back of the couch.

 

“It’s ‘cause I am so funny. Also, what that a joke, or is Logan really going to show up?” He tried to ask nonchalantly as he took a sip of his coffee.

 

“Yes, Dad, Logan really is picking me up.” Veronica answered as she shrugged her jacket on and went to grab her messenger bag.

 

“So is this new? Or has Logan been... ‘picking you up’ for a while now?” His eyebrows rose questioningly.

 

“This does not mean anything, Dad, okay? I’m helping him with something and I left my car downtown, hence needing the ride.”

 

“And you’re helping him with something because…?”

 

“I just happened to run into him a few days ago while I was working on a story. He asked for my help with his sister, I said yes. Is the interrogation over yet?”

 

Keith hummed, then pointed at her authoritatively, “For now. But don’t leave town.”

 

Before Veronica could fake a laugh, they heard a knock on the door.

 

“Who is it?” Keith called out, ignoring his daughter’s eyeroll.

 

“... It’s Logan.” A slightly confused voice answered.

 

“Logan who?”

 

Veronica looked up from rubbing her temples. “Dad!”

 

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ve always known there’s ever only been one.” Keith winked at her as he went to open the door.

 

“Good morning, Logan.” Keith said jovially.

 

Logan smiled broadly as he stepped in. “Morning, Keith.”

 

Veronica could only gape at both of them as they shook hands like old friends.

 

“What is this?” She demanded in an unsettled tone, gesturing vaguely at the men in front of her and trying to ignore the way Logan's eyes seemed to be drinking her up.

 

“This, my daughter, is a handshake. A very common greeting used in our culture, thought to be invented by the Romans to try and dislodge any concealed weapons.”

 

“I didn't know that.” Logan replied sincerely. “How very enlightening!”

 

He turned to Veronica. “Ready to go?”

 

She started answering as she checked that she had her purse, her keys, “Yeah, I'm - wait. My phone. One sec.”

 

As she walked back to the guest room, she could hear them talking.

 

“So Logan, how’s the company doing?”

 

“Doing well, so they tell me. There hasn’t been a ticker tape parade of shredded documents yet, so I assume that’s good news.”

 

“Well sure, but who doesn’t love a ticker tape parade? You keeping up with your… routine?”

 

Veronica furrowed her brows. _Routine?_

 

“Yeah, I am. It’s not always easy, but, uh, it’s always good.”

 

“Glad to hear it.”

 

“I hear that Weev- I mean Eli is working for you now.”

 

“He is! Brought him on a few years back, after a certain someone kept not-so-subtly leaving his resumes all over my desk after hinting I may be getting too old for all the vigilante action.” She heard Logan laugh as Keith continued, “He’s a good kid, though, and much better at the running around late at night than I am. I say kid, but he’s married with a one year old now. She can’t even talk, but she’s got him wrapped around her tiny finger.”

 

“Good for him.” Logan replied genuinely.

 

“Yeah. It’s great to see young men like that pull through and get back on their feet.”

 

Through the crack in her door, she saw a ghost of a smile cross Logan’s face as he examined the floor.

 

“It’s good to know that people are willing to help.” He finally responded, glancing up at Keith.

 

Okay, maybe she was the one who came through the wormhole, because she would have never thought her dad and Logan would be... _bonding_ in the kitchen while she was elsewhere, searching for her phone.

 

“Found it!” She yelled, grabbing her phone off the nightstand. “Okay, let’s go.” She said as she tried to push Logan out the door and away from this weird alternate universe where he and her dad were buddies.

 

“Hey, you just going to leave me here without a goodbye? What am I, a glorified innkeeper?” Keith asked with a mock pout.

 

“Well, I didn’t see a mint on my pillow, so if anything, you’re a subpar innkeeper. Bye. Love you.” She kissed her dad’s cheek and tugged Logan out the door.

 

“Bye Keith!” Logan waved, clearly enjoying Veronica’s attempt to drag him toward the car.

 

As she got into his convertible, she sorted through her priorities. “Okay, before we do anything, I really need some-”

 

“Coffee?” Logan offered with a grin, holding out a steaming cup. “With cream, no sugar.”

 

She took a sip and closed her eyes in caffeinated bliss. “Oh thank God.”

 

“Ah, just call me Logan. God’s a little formal, so save it for the special occasions.”

 

Veronica shook her head as she tried to hide her smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“I thought I was God?”

 

“And you’re going to get struck by lightning. Please refrain from insulting any more deities until I am out of range.” She remarked as she pulled out the envelope and went through the pictures again.

 

“Does that include you, Mars?”

 

Veronica turned her face to the sun. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

 

“So.” She said after a moment, and her tone caused Logan to look over and raise an eyebrow. “When did you and my dad get all… companionable?”

 

“Companionable? Really?” He asked, then chuckled as she gave him a look. “Alright. Um, I helped out him with a case a couple years years ago.”

 

“You did what?” Veronica inquired, surprise evident on her face.

 

“Okay, not really ‘helped out’. He was tailing one of the guys at my company to see if he was cheating on his wife. I recognized him, and managed not to blow his cover. He took me out to dinner to thank me.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s it? That’s the whole story?”

 

“Okay, fine. We were both at the local orgy and I happened to-”

 

“Ewww ew ew ew stop!” Veronica squealed as she tried to cover her ears.

 

“You asked!” Logan protested, grinning widely.

 

“Nevermind.” She laughed, shaking her head at him. “Alright, we need to make a stop before we get to the station.”

 

“Oh? What are we picking up?”

  
She grinned at him. “An all-access pass.”


	6. But it might just be mine

“Good morning Terrance!” Veronica called in a sing-song voice as Logan followed her into the police station.

 

“Ms. Mars!” A large man in uniform greeted. “What brings you here?”

 

“I’ve got a question for the captain. Is he in?”

 

“Now, you know I can’t do that.” He told her, shaking his head.

 

“Unless I have your maple and bacon donut?” She stepped aside as Logan opened the lid of the pink box with a Vanna White smile.

 

“You are an angel.” Terrance beamed as he reached into the box. “Captain’s in his office.”

 

“You’re the best, T!” Veronica waved as she walked into the bullpen, Logan nodding at the officer as he trailed along behind.

 

They passed out pastries and coffee amidst smiles and greetings along their route to a large office door. Veronica knocked, then peeked in.

 

“Why if it isn’t my favorite reporter!” An older African-American man smiled at her as she entered.

 

“And how are you this lovely morning, Carl?” Veronica said as she set a bear claw on his desk.

 

“Better now you’re here, Mars.” He eyed the tray of drinks she held. “Did you happen to get-”

 

She answered his question by handing over a cup with ‘Black coffee, no sugar’ written on it. “Your diet-cheat chai tea latte? Of course.”

 

Logan stifled a grin. He had wondered why she had personalized the cup in the car.

 

“Who’s your friend?”

 

“This is Logan Echolls. Logan, Captain Carl West, the finest captain in the whole precinct.”

 

“Don’t think I don’t see what you did there.” He pointed at Veronica, who simply winked in response.

 

Carl regarded Logan for a moment. “Echolls, huh?”

 

Veronica watched Logan tense up in anticipation of the inevitable _“Like the actor?”_. Her jaw clenched slightly, she took a step to her left, leaning so she was in between Logan and the desk.

 

The captain noted all of this with an interested twinkle in his eye, then continued, “You run the company with all the apps, right?”

 

Logan’s shoulders relaxed, though Veronica stayed where she was. “Yeah, that’d be me. But don’t ask me to help you with any of the games, because I’m stuck on level 80 of that damn cupcake one. Being the boss only gets you so far.”

 

Carl laughed. “I certainly get that. What can I help you with?”

 

“Do you recognize him?” Veronica asked, pulling out the photos of the bruised man from the envelope.

 

He frowned at them. “I don’t think so.” Raising an eyebrow at her, he asked, “What’d he do to get his face rearranged?”

 

“We think he owed money to the Fitzpatricks, but we’re not sure.”

 

“That’ll do it. How do you know the guy?”

 

“We think it might be my sister’s boyfriend.” Logan answered.

 

“Well, I don’t recognize him, but you’re welcome to look through the usual suspects if you think he has a record.”

 

“He wouldn’t be Trina’s type if he didn’t.”

 

Veronica gave Logan a side glance at the bitterness in his voice, then slid over an extra apple strudel. “Thanks, Carl.”

 

She and Logan took over one of the empty interview rooms and flipped through pages of mug shots.

 

“This is like the most depressing scrapbook ever.” Veronica sighed.

 

“What about him?” Logan pointed to a man with similar hair.

 

“Malcolm Trent. I’ll add him to the list.” Veronica said, then yawned. “I’m going to grab some water. You want anything?”

 

“I’m good, thanks.”

 

A moment after Veronica left, Logan heard the door to the room open again.

 

“Any luck?” The captain asked.

 

“A couple of guys match the height and build. We’ll follow up on them once we’re done here.” Logan leaned back in his chair as he watched the older man sit down.

 

“You know, Mars doesn’t really bring friends around.” He observed casually. “And I’ve never seen her get so protective of someone.”

 

Logan looked up, brows furrowed. “Protective?”

 

“Lord, yes. You should have seen the look she gave me when she thought I was going to mention your old man. Talk about shooting daggers.” Logan stared as the captain chuckled. “I’ll say this much - must be good to know someone like that is on your side.”

 

Glancing down at the table, he spoke softly, “Yeah, well. She wasn’t always on my side.”

 

Carl regarded him quietly for a moment, waiting as Logan watched Veronica chat away through the window. “She’s on your side now.”

 

The barest smile crossed his face. “Yeah. I guess she is.”

 

“Any more matches?” Veronica asked as soon as she came back in.

 

“Nope. I think these are it.” Logan said, gesturing to the photos they picked out.

 

“Peter Clay, Grayson Reed, David Marlowe, and Malcolm Trent.” The captain looked them over, then held up one of the blackmail photos to compare. “Hard to tell. Could be any of them. I’ll get Rob to make you some copies.”

 

Veronica beamed. “Thanks Carl! I will happily smuggle you lattes whenever you need them.”

 

“So, what next?” Logan asked as they walked outside.

 

“Next I call Mac and see if she has Trina’s credit card statements yet, then we head to the last few places she used it and see if anyone recognizes-”

 

“Nicky!” A loud voice called from behind them, and Veronica cringed.

 

“Of course. The first time he’s ever early for his shift. The universe really does hate me.” She muttered angrily at the sidewalk.

 

 _“Nicky?”_ Logan repeated archly.

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

They turned to see a man waving as he came jogging up. He had a round face, a bright smile, and floppy ash blonde hair. Logan instantly disliked him.

 

“Nicky! For a sec I thought you weren’t going to stop.”

 

“And yet I did.” Veronica gave him a tight smile. “What’d you want?”

 

“I just wanted to say hi. You’ve kind of been ducking my calls.”

 

“That’s probably because we broke up, Seth.” Veronica spoke in the same tone teachers used with kindergartners.

 

“Look, princess-”

 

“Don’t call me princess. I didn’t like it when we were dating, and I sure as hell don’t like it now.”

 

“Fine. Nic-” He caught her look, “What, you don’t like Nicky now? Fine. _Veronica_ , I just felt that things have been a little rough between us lately.”

 

“Again, please refer to Exhibit A: _we broke up_. Haven’t you noticed you’ve been eating dinner alone? Or has your ego taken up both seats?”

 

Logan snorted and hid a grin.

 

Seth seemed to notice him for the first time. “Who are you?”

 

“Me?” Logan pointed to himself and Veronica shot him a warning look. “I am but a humble _artiste_ , following my muse as she roams the earth, spreading light and dispensing justice.”

 

Seth blinked as Veronica bit her lip in amusement.

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t worry, we’re not together. She uses me purely for sex.”

 

Veronica hid her face in her hand as Seth looked even more confused.

 

“...What?”

 

“Actually, we were talking about the possibility of a threesome later. Are you free?”

 

“Uh…” Seth gaped, then said, “I think I should go…”

 

“Yeah, don’t want to be late for your shift.” Veronica nodded, stifling a laugh as Seth beat a hasty retreat.

 

She shook her head, the corner of her lips quirking up, and asked, “What was that?”

 

Logan shrugged. “Well, I figured you wanted him to leave, and you didn’t want me to punch him in the face. Maximum awkwardness seemed like the way to go.”

 

As he watched her try not to smile, he added, “Hey, if I was wrong, call him back and I will happily punch him anywhere you please.”

 

“We’ll let him go this time, but I’ll keep your offer in mind.” She grinned at him. “C’mon _artiste_. I got justice to dispense.”

  
He skipped along beside her. “I live to serve.”


	7. I could share it with you

Veronica was in the middle of a rushed breakfast when her computer rang with Mac’s video chat. The call took a bit to load, so she tried to finish eating while double-checking her email.

 

“Did you just stuff that whole bagel into your mouth?”

 

She turned to see Mac staring at her in judgement.

 

“Mm’o?” She answered around a full mouth.

 

“I don’t even know how that’s possible, but I do know that I now have the best blackmail ever.”

 

Suddenly, a clip of Veronica shoving an entire bagel, slathered in cream cheese, into her mouth popped up on her screen.

 

“You _gif’ed_ me?!” Veronica cried in disbelief.

 

“Hey, blackmail comes in all kinds of forms. Welcome to the digital age. At least now I have a fighting chance against your puppy-dog eyes.” Mac grinned at the annoyance on Veronica’s face.

 

“Anyway, just wanted to let you know I got those financial records for you.”

 

“Oo! I see them. Thanks for getting them so fast. Anything stand out to you?”

 

“Um, besides the fact that I am missing out on my calling at Ares Tech? Seriously, if I send you my resume, can you give it to Logan? Maybe with a lipstick kiss up on the top? And an endorsement about how much you love me?”

 

“Hey, if it’ll make sure that gif never sees the light of day, I will happily throw in a good word for you with Logan. I’m meeting up with him later.” Veronica told her with a slight smile as she sorted through Trina’s credit card statements.

 

“Hold up. What was that?”

 

“What was what?”

 

“That weird happy smile-grin you just did. Are you _excited_ to meet up with him? Is this a _date?”_ Mac asked as she leaned forward into frame.

 

“Um, unless you count bar-hopping without drinking while asking about his missing sister a date, I’d say no.” Veronica answered with an eyeroll.

 

She switched over to Logan’s financial records, then frowned. “Hey, what’s this payment to Second Chances on Logan’s statement? It shows up all three years, always on June 3rd.”

 

Mac checked the payments, then said, “It’s classified on his taxes as a charitable donation.”

 

“People only make charitable donations around Christmas or right before taxes are due. It makes no sense that it’s in June. Can you see how far back it goes, and if it’s the same amount each time? Something seems off about it.”

 

“I can, but it’ll take a little longer. Hey, does Logan know-”

 

Her phone rang, and Veronica saw the caller ID. “Oh, this is my editor. Thanks for all your help, Mac! Love you bye.”

 

She ended the call, then picked up her phone. “Hey Maria, what’s up?”

 

After discussing changes to be made to the latest story she did and what projects she was currently working on, Veronica called Logan to firm up plans for that night.

 

“Ah! My muse has deigned to summon me. What services might I offer?”

 

“Your muse is calling because she got Trina’s credit card statements. Ready to go information-gathering disguised as bar-hopping?”

 

“My favorite kind of bar-hopping! How did you know?”

 

“Please. I know everything.” She checked the time. “Meet you after work?”

 

“Sure. Wanna carpool? Save the rainforest and all that.”

 

“Well, I do love the rainforest. See you in a couple hours.”

 

The unconscious smile on her face faded when she looked back over Logan’s records. Every year, same amount to the same place. Her P.I. senses were tingling, and everything her dad had taught her about forensic accounting was slowly coming to the forefront of her mind (her childhood lessons may have been eclectic, but they were always useful).

 

Sighing, she tried to focus on her other work until five o’clock rolled around and Diana paged her with a too-chipper “Ms. Mars, your ride is here.”

 

She glanced out to see Logan smirking at her through the side window. Blowing a stray hair out of her face with an exasperated huff, Veronica collected her things and walked out to meet them.

 

“Echolls chauffeur service, reporting for duty.” Logan saluted with a grin.

 

Veronica snorted and shook her head. “If anyone needs me, Di, I’ll be on my cell.”

 

“Have fun!” Diana called after them with a wave.

 

Logan waved back, then caught Veronica’s look. “What?”

 

“First my dad, then Diana. Are you trying to bond with everyone I know alphabetically?” She asked as she opened the passenger side door.

 

“C’mon. Diana was just telling me some stories.”

 

Veronica’s head snapped around to stare at him.

 

“Ooo! Apparently she knows all the good ones!”

 

“What did she tell you?” Veronica tried to ask nonchalantly.

 

“Let’s see… apparently you nearly maced the editor-in-chief…”

 

“He snuck up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders! He’s just lucky I didn’t have my taser on me.”

 

“You also have some kind of dirt on one of the section editors after she refused to run any of your stories, and now she treats you with frigid respect.”

 

“She was terrible at hiding her affair. I mean, the motel across the street? Really? Was she trying to get caught?”

 

“And that one of the assistants had a boyfriend who liked to rough her up. He somehow ended up duct taped to a pole with dog bites and confessed crying to the cops. He never said who did it, but Diana noticed that you walked around with a smug smile the rest of the week.”

 

“Hmm. Sounds like karma caught up to him.”

 

“Don’t tell me. Karma is the name of your dad’s new dog?” Logan asked with a sly smile.

 

“Backup would be proud. Also, if the protection biz doesn’t work out, she has the perfect stripper name.” She grinned at him.

 

“The more you change, Mars, the more you stay the same.” Logan told her, amusement lining his voice.

 

Veronica looked over. Had he changed? Everything she had seen told her he had put his life together, that he wasn’t the same self-destructive teenager she once knew. But those payments to Second Chances were niggling away at the back of her mind, reminding her that she had trusted Logan before and it ended with silent sobs in an elevator.

 

“So I have good news and bad news,” Veronica told him, mouth serious. “Good news, Trina is not trying to scam you. Bad news…”

 

Logan’s jaw tightened. “Someone took her.” She watched him with care. “You know, I honestly hoped it was just another way for Trina to try and borrow money. How do you know?”

 

“You said she was radio silent for two weeks. The last charge on her card was just two days after she talked to you. It hasn’t been used since. Her phone is off, right?”

 

“Yeah. Goes straight to voicemail.”

 

“Either off or dead, which takes GPS tracking off the table.” She tried to frame her next question carefully. “You know, maybe this isn’t just about Trina.”

 

Logan looked over questioningly. “Like maybe it has something to do with her boyfriend?”

 

“Yeah. Maybe he’s in debt and Trina’s just collateral. Or maybe it has to do with someone else connected to her, something from their past that caught up with her.”

 

Logan suddenly went very still.

 

After a moment, he summoned a humorless grin as he shook his head. “And here I thought the information-gathering was going to start at the bar. Silly me.”

 

“I’m just trying to think outside the box.”

 

“Really? Because accusing me of something seems well within your usual box of tricks.” His tone was bitter, angry, biting.

 

“I’m not accusing you of anything.” She responded sharply.

 

“Oh? Is that why you’re asking me vague questions in your interrogation voice?”

 

“Interrogation voice? Sounds like a request you make on a sex hotline.” Veronica tried to joke, but looked away at Logan’s grim expression.

 

They drove in tense silence for a while, the knot in Veronica’s stomach reminding her of the flip side of falling into old rhythms with Logan. When things were good, they were very good, but when they went bad…

 

Logan let out a controlled breath as he parked. “Veronica,”

 

Her shoulders started up to come up as she waited for the blow out. Here it comes, the yelling, the blaming, the realization that this whole thing was a mistake and -

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Nearly certain she hadn’t heard right, she slowly turned to look at him. He was holding the steering wheel, purposefully tightening and releasing his grip.

 

“I know you chase down every angle that might make sense. It’s what makes you… you. And that’s one reason why I asked you to help with this, because I know once you get a hold of something, you won’t stop until it’s finished.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “But I swear to you, this has nothing to do with me or my past.”

 

His dark eyes met hers. “Do you trust me?”

 

Did she? She wanted to, but…

 

(With everyone _(with Logan)_ , there was always a ‘but’)

 

“Yeah.” She answered, unsure if it was a lie.

 

He stared at her a moment longer, then rubbed his neck. “I know it’s been a long time, and a lot has happened, so maybe, after this is all over, we can… talk.”

 

Veronica tilted her head. “Talk?”

 

“Catch up. Like normal people do.” He offered her a slight grin, a peace offering, and she slowly returned it.

 

Logan turned back to the steering wheel. “Maybe we can grab dinner somewhere.” He tried to say casually.

 

Veronica’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh…” _Did he just...?_

 

“Sure.” She said, and the speed he turned to look at her betrayed his nervousness. “Sounds good.”

 

He let out a relieved breath. “Alright.” He got out of the car and came over to open her door.

 

His hand paused on the door. “We okay?”

 

And it was the way he looked at her, uncertain and hopeful _(desperate and yearning)_ , that made them both teenagers again.

 

_I want you to trust me._

_I do._

_(Until I don’t)_

“Yeah. We’re okay.” She smiled at him, pushing thoughts of unusual payments and Mac’s current investigation to the back of her mind.

 

_(Until we’re not)_

 

“Good.” He helped her out, then flashed her a grin. “Shall we start detecting, Nancy Drew?”

 

She smiled and pumped her fist. “Into the wretched hive of scum and villainy!”

 

“Now that would be one hell of a crossover. C’mon Mars-wan Kenobi. Let’s go use a few Jedi-mind tricks on the unsuspecting public.”

 

 _We’ll be okay._ She told herself as she watched him wait for her.

  
  
  
_(Until we won’t)_


	8. If you gave me the time

“I’ll say this much for you, Mars. You do know how to read people.” Logan commented as they left the second bar.

 

“Please. That guy has clearly wanted to be a cop his whole life. I could have used a cereal box badge and he still would have told us everything he knew.”

 

Sadly, the bartender’s knowledge was quite limited. He only knew that he had seen Trina the night of her disappearance, but he thought she was alone, and didn’t recognize any of the photos they showed him. But it was better than the first club, where no one knew anything.

 

“Speaking of badges, I assume that was Seth’s? Did he give it to you, or did you just ‘happen’ upon it?” Logan asked with a grin.

 

“Nope. Just a cleverly done prop. Granted, it did cross my mind, especially since he kept leaving it in plain sight, but cops lose hours if they lose their badge.” Veronica thought a moment, then continued, “Although, it would have been a fair trade for those hours of my life I will never get back from when we rented Hot Tub Time Machine.”

 

“Ouch. Even I’m not evil enough to submit a girl to that torture.”

 

“And he wouldn’t even let me heckle it!”

 

“No! Heckling terrible movies is one of the inalienable human rights, isn’t it?”

 

“It really is.”

 

They paused in front of the next bar and Veronica caught a look of frustration flit across Logan’s face at the possibility of another dead end.

 

“Here.” She held out the badge. “You try this time.”

 

“Really?” He gave her a slow smile. “You’re including me in your shenanigans?”

 

“Not just including, I am dubbing you Sir Shenanigan.” She tapped each of his shoulders with the badge, then stood on her tip-toes to touch his forehead (he still had to duck his head for her to reach, smirking all the while). “There. Now it’s official.”

 

Even as she settled on her feet, Logan kept his head bent, low and close to her. His hazel eyes gently rested on her face, his mouth softening. They stayed like that for a moment, a breath away from touching.

 

“Thanks.” The word went no further than her ears.

 

A warm feeling coursed through her, and she opened her mouth to say something, to reassure him they’d find Trina, that she didn’t want him to worry, that she’d help him _(that she’d missed him)_ , when the club suddenly erupted with a shatteringly loud electronica song, causing them both to jump.

 

“We should…”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They exchanged smiles, then walked through the pulsating music up to the bar.

 

“Hello ma’am.” Logan flipped the badge open authoritatively. “I’m with the Palm Valley police department, and I’d like to know if you’ve seen this young woman.”

 

Without even glancing at the photo, the redheaded bartender glared at him. “Nope. Haven’t seen her.”

 

Logan frowned. “Did you want to look at the photo first?”

 

She spared two seconds, then repeated. “Haven’t seen her.”

 

“Ma’am, this woman was at this club last Friday, and is currently missing. I’m trying-”

 

“You’re trying to get information out of me by asking questions I don’t have to answer.” She folded her arms angrily. “Trust me, I know. My ex was a cop.”

 

Spotting the defensive stance and the engagement ring, Veronica suddenly rushed forward, feeling around in her bag.

 

“I’m so sorry, my fiance is just really worried about his sister.” The bartender blinked in surprise as Veronica came up and patted Logan’s chest, making sure the large diamond was visible on her ring finger. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He froze for a moment, then snaked his arm possessively around her hip.

 

She looked to the other woman. “What’s your name?”

 

“Kari.” She said finally.

 

“Kari, I’m Elle, and this is Riley.” She handed the photo over. “This is Trina, my maid of honor. She’s going to be my sister-in-law, and she has been more bridezilla about this whole wedding than I have! I mean, you should have seen her when the florist tried to give us peonies instead of hydrangeas.”

 

A tiny smile crossed Karli’s face.

 

“No one’s heard from her in two weeks, and she missed her dress fitting today.” She let her lower lip wobble. “I know she wouldn’t miss it unless something was really wrong. And her ex-boyfriend and his whole gang are serious trouble.” Logan spread out the mug shots.

 

Kari sighed, then looked at the picture of Trina. “Okay, I did see her, but I didn’t see any of the guys.”

 

Logan let out a disappointed breath and Veronica rubbed his arm in concern.

 

“But the bouncer might have.” She offered, then waved over a large, muscular man. “Mike, did you see this girl with any of these men last Friday?”

 

He examined the photos with care. “I saw the girl. But I don’t think… wait. This guy. She left with him.”

 

All three of them leaned forward to see the man Mike was pointing to.

 

“David Marlowe.” Veronica said, committing his name and face to memory.

 

“Do you know what time they left?” Logan asked.

 

“Sometime around 11, I think.” Mike said.

 

Logan pulled out his wallet and gave both of them several bills. “Thank you both so much. Here.”

 

“Oh, you don’t-” Mike started.

 

“Please. It’s the least I can do.” Logan told them as they pocketed the money.

 

“I hope you find her.” Kari said.

 

“Thanks.” Veronica replied, as she and Logan headed out the door, his hand still firmly around her waist. As they walked, she felt as if he was keeping his hand there, not for show, but almost for support.

 

“What’s the next place?” He asked, and Veronica could hear the tension in his voice.

 

After double checking Trina’s statements, she said, “The Rackhouse.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Classy.”

 

He stared up at the sky. “This is the last one, right? The last charge on her card before she...”

 

“Yeah.”

 

As he kept searching the heavens, Veronica asked softly, “What are you looking for?”

 

He took a moment, then told her, “You know how most people wish on falling stars? My mom didn’t. She always said that shooting stars were signs of hope.” He let out a small breath. “Of second chances.”

 

She heard a ghost of a chuckle, then he continued. “Guess she knew that starting over was the only thing I ever wished for. Especially after a bad night.”

 

Eyes pricking, Veronica was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to go back in time and undo everything bad that had ever happened to him.

 

Instead, she leaned into him until he glanced down. “We’ll find her.” She told him with quiet confidence.

 

He gave her a small smile, then dropped his hand and moved away. “Alright. We walking or driving?” He asked, mask back in place, vulnerability safely hidden.

 

Veronica put the address into her phone. “It’s not too far. We can walk.”

 

As they followed the blue line on the map, Logan commented, “I didn’t think you were the marrying type.”

 

She stared at him in confusion until she saw him gesture to her ring. “Oh. Only when it helps me get information.” She grinned, then felt the need to add, “It’s not real.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Oh?” Veronica raised an eyebrow. “Can you spot cubic zirconia from a mile away?”

 

“No.” He tried to hand back the badge. “Here. It obviously didn’t work for me.”

 

“Hey, that was just once. Second time’s the charm.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Absolutely. Besides, Sir Shenanigan never gives up.” She smiled at him until the corners of his lips turned up.

 

“Alright. Second time’s the charm.” He started to head inside.

 

“Hey. Why do you know it’s fake?” She held up her left hand with a quizzical expression.

 

Logan stared at the ring, then his eyes flicked up to her face.

 

“It’s not the kind you’d like.” He answered, then quickly turned and walked into the bar, leaving Veronica frozen in surprise on the sidewalk.

 

By the time she caught up to him, he was already questioning the young Asian working the bar. “Sorry man, I didn’t see her.” He spotted the photo of David Marlowe. “I definitely remember this guy though. He tried to take a phone call, then starting swearing at the DJ, telling her to turn down the music. Then he and another guy got into it, and the bouncer threw them out.”

 

“Do you know where they went after that?” Logan asked urgently.

 

“I think the alley. I was taking my smoke break and heard some fighting, so I start to go see if I need to call the cops or something, then this giant SUV nearly runs me over, pulls up front of the alley, a door slams, then there’s no one there.”

 

They glanced at each other, and Veronica leaned forward. “Do you have security tape of the alley?”

 

The young man shook his head. “No. Just inside by the door and over by the cash register.”

 

Logan’s jaw visibly tensed.

 

“But there’s a pawn shop on the other side of the alley. They might. They upped their security after they got robbed a while ago.”

 

Logan slammed down a hundred, then both of them ran to the shop next door. After several breathless demands and a sizable bribe, the guy on night shift let them take a look at the security footage.

 

It ran on a continuous loop, so they had to spend agonizing minutes rewinding to the correct day.

 

“There!” Logan shouted, pointing at the screen. Veronica hit play, and they both watched in horror as blurry forms shoved David Marlowe to the ground and started kicking him, pushing off a crying Trina to the side. Suddenly they all turned, then grabbed David and Trina and dragged them out of frame, most likely to the SUV that the bartender had mentioned.

 

Veronica stood and pulled out her cell phone. “Carl, it’s Veronica. I’ve got evidence of a kidnapping on tape, down at EZ Pawn on Broadway. Can you get someone out here?” She peeked at Logan, who was trembling with barely contained rage. “And hurry.”

 

As she hung up, she tentatively curled her hand around Logan’s clenched fist. Nothing happened at first, but then all of a sudden, he opened his palm and gripped her hand like his life depended on it.

 

His breathing had steadied by the time Leticia, one of Veronica’s favorite officers at the precinct, and her partner drove up. He answered their questions evenly, clearly explaining the timeline, how Cravinski had contacted him, the demand for cash, all of it, voice never wavering.

 

But he never once let go of her hand.

 


	9. I'm all bloody knuckles

“Okay, that’s Cravinski, but who are the other guys? Fitzpatricks?”

 

“Most likely. I’ll bet my last latte that guy is Connor Fitzpatrick.” Carl pointed to the screen. “He’s the head honcho for the Palm Valley branch of the family. But without clear IDs, all we’ve got is assault for Cravinski.”

 

“Assault? They kidnapped two people!”

 

“Sorry Mars, but unless you magically have a way to figure out where Trina and David are and get the head of the Fitzpatricks to confess to kidnapping, there’s not much we can do. Like I said, we can get Cravinski on assault charges-”

 

Logan, who had been leaning against the wall of the captain’s office and staring at the ground for hours, spoke for the first time. “No. They all need to go down.”

 

Veronica and Captain West looked over in surprise and concern at the conviction in his voice.

 

“We’ll do all we can, but honestly? We have no identifying marks on the car, no plates, and no way to track them down.”

 

“Look, the drop off is supposed to be in two days. We can’t just let them get away with it. If I get pictures of it-”

 

“Then we’ll only get Cravinski, and he’s just a cog in the machine. They’ll find another bookie before the day is out.”

 

“What would you need?” Logan asked, pushing himself away from the wall. “To put all the guys who did this away.”

 

Carl shrugged. “Ideally? For an airtight case, I’d need recordings and photos of Connor Fitzpatrick taking the money and telling us where he’s keeping the hostages stashed. Realistically, we’ve got Cravinski picking up the cash from a drop site, and hoping that they follow through on their promise to let Trina and David go.”

 

Veronica stifled a sigh of frustration. “There’s got to be-”

 

A tinny voice interrupted her. “Mr. Echolls! So glad you finally called. We were starting to get concerned.”

 

Carl and Veronica whirled around to see Logan on the phone.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Veronica hissed.

 

He ignored her. “I’ll pay it. Just tell me when and where.”

 

They could almost hear Cravinski gloat. “Perfect. I’ll text you the details.”

 

“But I want your boss there.”

 

Veronica’s eyes widened and she started making irate gestures indicating she thought this was a terrible idea.

 

“Mr. Echolls, I’m sure you can understand why that’s not going to happen.”

 

“I give the money to him or the deal is off.” Logan’s tone brooked no argument. “I’m not trusting this to an underling, and I expect the same courtesy from him. I’d like him to take this seriously.”

 

There was a long pause, and then, “One moment.”

 

Veronica pointed warningly. “Logan, don’t you dare-”

 

“Alright. Mr. Fitzpatrick has agreed to your terms. But the price has gone up. $50,000.”

 

“That’s five times what I agreed!” Logan argued.

 

“You wanted him to take this seriously. This is him taking it seriously.”

 

Logan bit his lip. “Fine. But if I don’t see him, I’m walking.”

 

He hung up, then calmly looked over at the Captain. “So, the head of the Fitzpatricks is going to be there. What was the next thing you needed?”

 

Veronica was practically radiating anger. “What the hell was that? Are you trying to get yourself killed? These are dangerous people, Logan!”

 

“And how many other people have they done this to?” He turned to her, eyes blazing. “How many people didn’t have enough money to pay the ransom? You want me to just let this go?”

 

They glared at each other a moment, then Logan looked to Carl. “Is there a way for you to track the location of a cell phone?”

 

After taking stock of the situation, he answered, “Only if we know the number. And whoever Connor has watching them probably has burner phones.”

 

As Veronica fumed, angry at Logan for being stupid _(for being right)_ , he looked at her. It’s the same look he had when his mom went missing, when he ended up outside of her door, holding himself as if afraid he’d fall to pieces.

 

 _Help, Veronica._ (She should look away, but his eyes pleaded with her.) _Please._

 

And because she’s Veronica, _(because he’s Logan)_ , her brain started ticking away with all the possible ways to solve this puzzle.

 

“So we can’t predict the phone number he calls, but we do know that it’s going to be Connor Fitzpatrick who calls.” She pointed to Carl, who was regarding her thoughtfully. “You can clone a cell phone, right?”

 

“I’d have to get a warrant, but that’s shouldn’t be difficult. No judge would be surprised to hear that the Fitzpatricks are branching out into kidnapping. The issue is getting close enough to the phone to clone it. The guy can smell cops a mile away.”

 

A slow grin grew across Veronica’s face. “Well it’s a good thing I’m not a cop, isn’t it?”

 

* * *

 

“Alright, test test. Veronica, can you hear me? Say something.”

 

“I say that I’m almost done changing, and I could hear you for the last five minutes, Rob. Your tech is fine, and the captain is right - don’t bring up World of Warcraft on dates unless she mentions it first.”

 

She heard Logan snort over her earpiece.

 

“You got eyes on Connor?”

 

“Yes ma’am. The spy cave of wonders sees all.” Logan attempted a spooky voice.

 

She could practically hear the captain shoot Logan a look. “He’s still talking on his phone.” Carl told her.

 

“Okay, let me know when he hangs up.”

 

After applying her make-up, she heard Rob tell her that Connor had just finished his call.

 

As she started walking, Logan commented, “So, just out of curiousity, do you have a plan to get his phone?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

Rob asked in a doubtful tone, “And that would be… what, exactly? Distract him and knock it on the ground? Steal it and return it later?”

 

Veronica shrugged. “I was just going to ask him.”

 

There was a pause, then Logan replied with heavy sarcasm, “Well, of course. Why didn’t we think of that?”

 

“Alright, I’m turning the corner now. Let me know when you can see me.”

 

“Now remember, you have to put the phones in close proximity for at least thirty seconds.” Rob told her. “The closer the…"

 

Logan let out a low _"Damn.”_

 

Veronica smiled as she took that as proof they had her on camera. She held up her sparkly pink case to her ear and started yelling in a hysterical voice, “Justin, oh my God, just listen to me!”

 

Several eyes turned to her, searching for the source of the noise, and were transfixed by her scandalously short pink miniskirt, silver wedges, and a tightly fitted crop top with ‘Hearst’ emblazoned on the front. She was pleased to note that one of the gawkers was Connor Fitzpatrick.

 

“We are not having this conversation again! I mean, so what if I messed around with Emily, a) it’s college, and b) don’t think I don’t know you’ve been sleeping with your ex again! Which one? What about all of them! That’s right! I know about all of those stupid sluts- Justin? Justin!”

 

She kept walking until she was right next to Connor’s outdoor table at his favorite restaurant. He was surrounded by three other guys, but Veronica was counting on their loyalty and/or fear to keep them in the background.

 

Stomping her foot, she stared at her screen and shrieked. “Oh my God, I cannot believe this is happening to me! Not now!”

 

Looking around in desperation, she caught Connor’s stare. “I am so sorry,” she squeaked, coming up to his table, “but can I borrow your phone? I need to break up with my bastard of a boyfriend right now, but I forgot to charge my phone and now it’s dead and I need to make a clean break so I can start the grieving slash rebound phase like right now.”

 

He ogled her a moment longer, then leered. “Sure honey. You start that rebound phase right here.”

 

She grabbed his phone off the table and absentmindedly set it on top of her own in her hand. “Oh my God, like, thank you so much. I’m in such a vulnerable place right now, and I know if I don’t break up with him like this instant, I’m just going to go right back to him and start this whole hate sex/make up sex/break up sex cycle all over again.”

 

“Program running. Remember, thirty seconds or more.” Rob’s voice reminded her.

 

Punching in the number of a burner phone she owned, just in case Connor checked his call log after, she waited as it rang, hearing the ringtone echo through her earpiece.

 

“Thank you for calling the Mystery Machine, this is Logan, are you looking for Scooby or Shaggy?”

 

“Look, Justin, it’s over! I mean, I thought because you were a rich blonde surfer, you’d be way more low maintenance, but I can’t take your paranoia and your douchey-ness and all your stupid sluts anymore!”

 

“Ah. I take it Justin is related to a certain high school classmate of ours?” Logan asked, then cleared his throat and attempted a surfer boy dialect. “C’mon, Ronnie! You can’t tame the Dick! I need to be free to chase girls - I mean lays - I mean waves!”

 

“This is exactly why we have to break up. You only ever think of yourself and your surfboard and your abs!”

 

“To be fair, my abs are pretty awesome. I’m thinking of just going shirtless all the time. Covering up these bad boys is a crime to humanity.”

 

“You’re a crime to humanity! Your ego’s bigger than the Pacific Ocean!”

 

“You know what else is bigger than the Pacific Ocean? My-”

 

“Clone complete!” Rob interrupted, his voice cracking.

 

“Good-bye Justin! Forever!” She shouted into the phone, then hung up in a huff. Sniffing, she handed the phone back to Connor.

 

“Thank you so much. I really needed to do that.”

 

He smiled predatorily. “No problem, baby. How ‘bout I get you a drink, help you forget about him? What’s your name?”

 

“Amber. And thanks, but I’ve already made plans with a friend to go box up all his stuff and set it on fire.” Connor’s henchmen all glanced at each other with raised eyebrows. “Part of my grieving process, you know? But um…” She tilted her head and bit her lip, “Can I get your number? You’re like, one of the last true gentlemen left on earth.”

 

Connor gave her a lecherous look, then said, “Absolutely.” He snapped his fingers and one of his minions handed him a pen and a scrap of paper.

 

She took the paper with a coy smile, thanked him again, then sashayed down the sidewalk, conscious of the guys in the restaurant (and probably in the van) checking out her ass.

 

Veronica walked around the block for good measure, then stepped into the van when it pulled up next to her.

 

“How was that?” She asked with a smug quirk of her eyebrow.

 

Rob stuttered, “H-hot.”

 

All three other van occupants turned to stare at him (although Logan made a show of giving it a thought, then nodding in agreement as Veronica rolled her eyes in good humor).

 

“I mean good. Great. We - we got the clone done.” Blushing furiously, he checked a few things on his laptop, then added shyly, “That - that was amazing.”

 

“That’s Veronica Mars.” Logan said, and Veronica grew warm at the note of pride in his voice.

 

Carl shook his head. “We’ll have to run a few diagnostics to make sure the phone is receiving all his calls and texts. See you both tomorrow?”

 

“Absolutely.” Logan mimicked Connor’s lascivious tone, causing all of them to laugh.

 

As Logan dropped her off at her apartment, she waved at him. “Thanks, Dick.”

 

He smiled and winked. “Anytime, Amber.”

 

She kicked off her shoes as soon as she made it in the door, and checked her phone to see a single text from Mac.

 

_Got records. Call me._

 

After changing into sweatpants, she opened her laptop and noticed that Mac hadn’t sent whatever she had found yet. Shrugging, she dialed Mac’s number as she rummaged in the fridge for dinner.

 

“Hey V.” Mac sounded strangely foreboding.

 

“Hey Q. What’s up?” Veronica asked while sniffing the slightly expired milk.

 

“So, I checked on those payments like you wanted...”

 

“You know, I was thinking, if they’re all just the same amount, he’s probably just got an auto-pay set up for a charity he likes. No big deal.”

 

“They’re not. The same amount I mean. Here, I’ll send them over.”

 

A second later, a new email attachment appeared. Veronica opened it, then scanned its contents with a sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

 

Mac finally broke the silence with, “So, I’m not really an expert in these things, but the fact that there’s one big payment eight years ago, and a series of smaller payments every year after is kind of… hinky, right?”

 

Veronica let out a long breath. “It’s a payoff. He paid someone $180 grand right out of high school, probably to keep something secret, but whoever they are probably knew they could milk him for a lot more, so they told him he has to keep paying them every year. Or else.” She shook her head, a thousand _‘I knew it’_ s echoing in her mind.

 

Mac tried a hopeful tone. “But I mean, I’m sure there’s a different explanation. Maybe if you talk to-”

 

“Thanks for all your help, Mac.” Veronica attempted to keep the defeat out of her voice before she hung up.

 

She stared at the screen, hurt and fury and betrayal bubbling up inside, boiling over into angry tears.

  
_Logan, what did you do?_


	10. Longing for home

“The drop off is set for 10 o’clock tonight in the warehouse district.” Logan informed the captain.

 

“Alright. We’ll have officers standing by to move as soon as we confirm the location, as well as back-up close to the drop site.”

 

Logan shook his head. “Not too close. Cravinski’s paranoid enough. I can’t imagine what Connor’s like.”

 

“We need to be close enough to see what’s going on. If we don’t know what’s happening, we can’t help you.” Carl argued.

 

“Then I’ll wear a wire.” Logan announced, and both men surreptitiously glanced over at Veronica to gauge her reaction.

 

She sat in the chair, biting her thumbnail and lost in thought.

 

Logan waved a hand in her direction. “Hello? Earth to Mars.”

 

“Hm? What?” She looked up, blinking.

 

“I’m going to wear a wire to my meeting with the gang who kidnapped my sister and her dumb-ass boyfriend. Questions? Comments? Concerns?”

 

“Sure, good.” She said, then went back to biting her nail and staring at the desk.

 

Carl and Logan traded concerned looks, then Carl continued, “It’s dangerous. If they find it, it’ll be bad news for both you and your sister.”

 

“I think they’ll be a little distracted by the giant bag of cash I’ll be carrying.” Logan answered snarkily.

 

The captain reluctantly agreed, and brought in the officers who were involved in the operation in for a briefing. The whole time Carl spoke, Logan kept shooting her little looks of concern and worry until he finally grabbed her hand and pulled her into one of the interview rooms, Veronica surprised into submissiveness.

 

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” He demanded, brows furrowed.

 

“Nothing.” She said, and even she could hear the defensiveness in her voice.

 

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Really? I make a decision to do something fairly dangerous and not one peep out of you. No _‘Logan, it’s too risky’_ , or _‘Were you dropped on your head as a child’_ , or my personal favorite, _‘You’re going to get your ruggedly handsome face punched’_? All signs that the planet of Mars is seriously off kilter.”

 

The fact that she kept staring into space only disturbed him more. “Prime banter fodder and nothing? C’mon, Veronica, what’s wrong?”

 

When she finally looked up, he took an involuntary step back at the betrayal in her eyes.

 

“Who’s blackmailing you?”

 

He blinked in confusion, then answered slowly, “Cravinski? The guy who started all of this? Have you had amnesia long? Wait, you probably can’t answer that.”

 

“I’m not talking about that!” She shouted.

 

“Then what the hell are you talking about?”

 

“I’m talking about Second Chances!”

 

Every muscle in his body stiffened and his eyes suddenly became very sharp. “What?” He asked quietly, warningly.

 

“You paid them $180,000 right out of high school and having been making payments every year since! What are you hiding?” She shouted.

 

Logan took a deliberate breath, then clenched his teeth. “You had no _right-”_

 

Her eyes blazed at him. “I asked you about it and you said nothing.”

 

“I asked you to trust me!” His voice was a strange mix of wounded, angry, and pleading.

 

He glanced at the floor and shook his head, a mirthless sneer on the corner of his mouth. “But you’re Veronica Mars. And you don’t trust anyone.” She ignored the sheen of his eyes. “Especially not me.”

 

“This isn’t high school anymore, Logan. I stuck my neck out for-”

 

“But it is high school, _Ronnie_. You refusing to tell me what’s going on, skipping straight to accusing me of whatever crime du jour you have that particular day, shutting me out without a single word of explanation, content to let me stew in misery until I come to you begging to tell me what I did wrong. Sound familiar?”

 

Veronica crossed her arms and looked away.

 

“Let me tell you something, Veronica. If you only look for the worst in someone, that’s all you’re going to see.” He sounded almost broken as he added, “At the expense of everything that’s actually there.”

 

“Logan, you owe me an explanation!”

 

“I don’t owe you _shit.”_  He snarled, then took a moment and tried to calm his voice. “But that’s what it always comes down to with you, isn’t it? You are perfectly happy to ask favors and assume everyone owes you for something but the _instant_ ,” Logan snapped his fingers for emphasis, “you think you might owe anyone anything; trust, affection, the truth… anything that puts you at risk...” He let out a bitter sigh, “you run.”

 

“I run?” She repeated in disbelief. “I have never run from anything in my life, especially not you.”

 

“I love you.”

 

It wasn’t a declaration of affection. It was flung out as a challenge, a dare, a glove against her cheek.

 

Her heart suddenly started racing and every fight that they had ever had came rushing into her mind, shoulders tensing and fists clenching.

 

He gave her a heartbreaking, humorless smile. “Ready to run now, aren’t you?”

 

All the fight went out of her with that one observation, and all she could do was stare at him.

 

_How did he know?_

_Is he **right?**_

 

Shoulders slumped, Logan spoke in a low, desolate tone. “You always have one foot out the door, Veronica. Always ready to run, ready to see the worst in people. The worst in me.” He ran his hands through his hair. “And God, Veronica, I know I’m screwed up, but I’ve spent the last eight years desperately trying to change that, trying to be _better.”_

 

His body was suddenly lined with defeat and disappointment. “I don’t know why I expected the same from you.”

 

Stung, hurt, eyes pricking, she reached out for him. “Logan-”

 

“Don’t.” His eyes were hard as flint. “For once, Veronica, _you_ stand there, and watch _me_ walk away.”

 

He turned away deliberately _(devastatingly)_ , opened the door, and left.

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, fighting back tears and trying to steady her breathing, when the door swung open and she whirled around in hope.

 

“Veronica?” Rob asked, eyes wide in concern. “Are you alright?”

 

_C’mon Mars, pull yourself together. Poker face on._

 

She gave him a tight smile. “Yeah. What’s up?”

 

“Um, have you seen Logan? I was going to show him how the wire works.”

 

“Oh, he, uh… he left.” Part of her was pleased to note that her voice did not crack on the last word.

 

“Oh. Could you… I mean, you’re going to see him later, right? To take pictures of the exchange? Can you give it to him? Do you know how it works?”

 

“I…”

 

The captain’s echoed down the hall, “Rob!”

 

“I’ve got to go. It’s all set up, he just has to turn it on here, and-”

 

“I know how it works, Rob, but I’m not-”

 

The captain called Rob’s name again.

 

“Gotta go, thanks!” Rob set it on the table and waved as he sped outside.

 

Shaking her head, Veronica shoved the whole thing into her bag and bolted out of the station.

 

She wasn’t even conscious of driving anywhere until she pulled up in front of a beautiful cream-colored house. Hugging herself and sniffing, she was about to ring the doorbell when she noticed the small sign pinned next to it.

 

_Twins are sleeping. You wake them, you have to rock them back to sleep!_

 

That at least helped muster up a ghost of a smile as she tried to knock softly, yet urgently.

 

Wallace poked his head out, then grinned, “Hey V! What brings you to my door?”

 

“Wallace, you’re my oldest friend…” she started, then paused as her eyes started to mist over.

 

“Oh boy. Where’s the body?” He joked, then saw the tears coursing down her cheeks. “Veronica, what’s wrong?” He reached out and touched her arm in pure, gentle, Wallace-like concern.

 

“You’re my oldest friend,” she repeated, trying to stifle her sobs, “and I need you to tell me the truth.”

 

His eyes flicked across her face worriedly. “Okay, sure.”

 

Veronica took a couple of slow breaths, then gathered her courage. “Do I always run?”

 

Confusion, then comprehension and compassion flit across his face, and he sighed. “Veronica…”

 

“The truth, Wallace.”

 

He bit his lip, torn, then finally said, “Yeah. You do.”

 

The last bit of her defenses crumbling, Wallace put his arm around her shaking shoulders and drew her inside. After getting her a cup of tea (Veronica had to choke back a hysterical giggle about how Wallace so _domestic_   now because of course he’s domestic he’s married and has twin babies and hasn’t he always been trying to take care of her?), he sat next to her on the couch and watched her carefully.

 

“So. I’m guessing you and Logan had it out.”

 

Nearly spitting out her tea, she stared at him. “How did you…?”

 

“Magnets, remember? Crashing together, or flying apart.” Wallace glanced at her, then asked gently, “What did he say?”

 

“Besides that I always run?” She said bitterly, hoping it it hid the hurt she felt. Wallace tilted his head at her, waiting, and she sighed in resignation. “I don’t know. Something about always having one foot out the door, looking for the worst in people, and… look, even if he was… if he did have a… he’s wrong about me not trusting anyone!” She tried to declare absolutely, then watched as Wallace very deliberately turned away to refill their cups.

 

“Wallace.” He finally met her eyes. “I _do_ trust some people.” As he looked to the side and pressed his lips together, she gaped as she realized he didn’t believe her.

 

“I trust you!” Veronica offered as evidence, which only caused Wallace to sigh and look at her with understanding.

 

“No, V. You don’t.” His tone was sympathetic, his grin both fond and rueful.

 

“I do! I-”

 

“You trust me to have your back. Which I do, 100%, day or night, mountain high, valley low, all that jazz.” He waited until she met his eyes. “But you don’t trust me enough to tell me what you’re ever up to.”

 

She shook her head, grasping for a way to prove him wrong.

 

“Do you remember when I told you why I never ask what your favors are for?”

 

She remembered, but the words stuck in her throat.

 

“Because I know that you’d never tell me.” He didn’t sound angry, Veronica noted distantly, just… accepting.

 

“All of us, me, Mac, your dad,” (he didn’t say _Logan_ but she heard it all the same) “we all love you, but we know that if we pushed you, if we asked you, you’d either evade the question or lie to us.”

 

The truth of it cut her to the heart.

 

“And if we refused to do your favor unless you told us the details, told us what was really going on…” Wallace sat back against the arm of the couch and gave her another knowing smile, “we’d lose you. You’d never ask us for anything again, and you’d probably never think of us the same.”

 

She opened her mouth, about to protest, to argue… what? That he was wrong? She had told all of them half-truths and white lies; her Dad, (Logan), Wallace, Mac, Piz, Seth, (sometimes she felt those were the only things she told them).

 

“And believe me, I get it. I love you like the sister I sorta kinda almost had, and I don’t think anyone can go through the stuff you did and not have trust issues. And as your friends, we understand that’s part of who you are.”

 

He paused, and Veronica wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he said next.

 

“Look, you shouldn’t feel like you have to tell anyone everything,” Wallace tried to pick his words carefully, “but in a good relationship, you should _want_ to tell them things. You should want to believe the best of them. And it’s hard, I know, but-”

 

“No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.” Veronica finished softly.

 

He smiled warmly at her. “Yeah. You’ve just gotta find the person who’s worth it.”

 

A piercing wail came from one of the back bedrooms, and quickly became a duet of high-pitched screams.

 

“Well, diaper duty calls.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You wanna stay and help, Supafly?”

 

Feeling much more herself, she punched his shoulder. “Nope. I will leave that to you, Sodapop.”

 

As they stood, she crushed him into a grateful hug. “Thanks, Wallace.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

 

“Hey, I’m just glad I can be your BFF without you making any Gilmore Girls jokes.”

 

Veronica grinned as she picked up her bag. “Later, Rory.”

 

“Damnit. So close.” Wallace shook his head, then regarded her for a moment. “You gonna go see Luke, Lorelai?”

 

Her smile was tight and hesitant, but still present. “Yeah. I think it’s… time.”

 

“For what?”

 

She stopped, one hand on the door. “To stop running.”

  
As the door closed, she could hear Wallace call, “Go get ‘em, Marshmallow.”


	11. If it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone

_I once had to look up the meaning of my name for a literature essay about whether names define a person’s character. I was on the side “of course they don’t, just give me my B- already” until I found out that ‘Mars’ is the god of war and ‘Veronica’ means ‘true image’. That’s right. My name means ‘The true image of war’. My parents couldn’t have been more prophetic if they tried._

_But what is the true image of war? Soldiers in uniform? Firing weapons? Patriotic music with star-spangled banners?_

_I’ve come to realize that it’s the aftermath. The wreckage and ruin, the scars that ache when the weather changes. Families shrinking in size. Picture frames full of lost loved ones. Reminders that things are different now, that they’ll never be the same._

_And of course, there’s the question that follows every war, echoing in the mind of everyone trying to pick up the pieces._

_Was it all worth it?_

 

* * *

 

 

Veronica brought her hand up to the door a third time, then finally forced herself to knock before she lost her nerve.

 

“We should have an open and honest discussion like actual, reasonable, mature adults,” she practiced, changing a few words from her rehearsal in the car, her shadow fidgeting in the sunset. “Rational, mature adults. A discussion about communication like real… like responsible-”

 

The door swung open. “Ronnie!” Logan greeted in a delighted voice.

 

Veronica stared. “Ummm… Hello. Logan.”

 

“Glad you could make it! C’mon in.” He swept his arm out in a welcoming gesture, confusing her even further.

 

She trailed uncertainly behind him, wondering if he had hit his head on something as she set her bag and phone on the table.

 

“You’re just in time for my swan dive!” He announced, heading over to the glass hutch.

 

Looking around and establishing there was no body of water in the vicinity, Veronica asked slowly, “Off of what, exactly?”

 

He grinned at her, that high-school edge of giddy recklessness back in his smile. “The wagon!” He declared, then tossed a coin her way.

 

She caught it instinctively, then looked down. It had a large ‘8’ on one side, with ‘years sober’ below it, and a growing tree on the other, surrounded by the words ‘Second Chances’.

 

Her mouth dropped open as all the pieces of information suddenly clicked into place with horrifying clarity.

 

“You… you were in…”

 

As she looked up at him, he started singing, “They tried to make me go to rehab and I said o-oh, o-oh-kay.”

 

He smirked at her. “Technically, they’re called ‘treatment facilities’, but you know, potato potahtoe. Also I checked myself in, but that’s besides the point. Drink?” He held up the bottle of brandy he had poured from that first night, which somehow seemed years ago. “No? More for me!”

 

She tried to think back. Had he ever actually taken a sip of the brandy he held that night? All she remembered was him holding the glass with feigned indifference, eyes sharp as he asked her what she was going to accuse him of next (a part of her winced at how well he knew her). From what she could recall, his glass had stayed full the whole time. She _was_ getting rusty.

 

“You know, when I imagined this scenario in my head, I thought there’d be this big moment where I’d tell you. Maybe at a reunion, or some place we both bumped into each other, like a wedding or something. And when I’d tell you that I didn’t drink anymore, you’d be impressed by my willpower, or self-control or something.” Logan told her, then so softly she barely caught it, added “You’d be proud.”

 

“Logan…” She started, but no other words came.

 

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “When people hear that I checked myself in, that I wasn’t forced in by family or whatever, they always ask me what my wake-up call was. The moment I knew I needed help.” He filled his glass with exaggerated care. “You know what I say?”

 

Veronica was too overwhelmed to even shake her head, but Logan delivered the punchline anyway.

 

“I forget!” He smiled in remembrance. “That always got a big laugh.”

 

He stared down at the drink sitting on the counter, his humor fading, then spoke to it, “Sad thing is, it’s the truth.” He took a ragged breath. “I don’t remember what I said to you that night that made you come back.”

 

Veronica froze, shocked into paralysis.

 

“I don’t remember calling Kendall and ruining whatever might have happened.” He met her gaze, eyes overbright, voice raw. “But you know what I do remember? The way you looked at me. When you walked away, like I… like you never wanted to see me again. Like I had finally screwed up too much for you to ever…”

 

There was a heavy silence, then, swiping at his eyes, Logan gave her a twisted smile and lifted his glass. “To what should have been!”

 

He went to tip it into his throat, then all at once, Veronica’s feet were rushing forward and she snatched the drink out of his hand. As he stared, she downed the whole thing, then slammed the glass on the counter defiantly.

 

For a moment, they just looked at each other, Veronica’s eyes watering (from the burn of the alcohol or the sting of the memory, she wasn’t sure which) and Logan’s eyes dark and wide and dangerous.

 

 _“God_ that’s hot,” He murmured, then his mouth was on hers.

 

His hands cradled her head gently, in contrast with his hungry, urgent kisses, trying to devour her, reveling in the forbidden taste of her brandy-tinted mouth, and her fingers buried themselves in his hair and tried to pull him even closer. He clearly agreed because next thing she knew he was spinning her around, lifting her onto the counter and nipping her neck as she wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face under his chin and trying to memorize his scent, the warmth of his chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the absolute _rightness_ of being here, being with him.

 

Tugging him back to her lips, her fingers scraped against his stubble, his hands splayed against her back, pressing her into him as her legs hooked around his waist. She suddenly tasted salt and pulled back. After noticing his eyes were wet, she saw light reflecting in lines flowing down his cheeks, then felt his thumb softly brush away the tears on her own face. She took a moment to just look at him, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the scratch of his five o’clock shadow, his breath hitching when she outlined the roughness of his chapped lips. Grabbing his shirt in her fists, she yanked him forward, crashing together in searing desperation, in sudden demanding need.

 

The sudden rattle of her phone vibrating on the table jolted both of them apart, and it took Veronica several embarrassing seconds before her hazy brain could focus on deciphering the name on her screen.

 

 _(Damn_ he was a good kisser.)

 

She glanced at the clock as she hopped off the counter. _“Shit.”_

 

Grabbing her phone, she tried to calm her breathing. “Hey, Carl. What’s up?”

 

“We’re about to leave the station. Are you coming? Where’s Logan?”

 

“I’m… he’s… W-we’ll meet you there.” She hoped her voice sounded more normal over the phone than it did to her own ears.

 

There was a considerable pause, then Carl said, “Alright. Be there in half an hour.”

 

“Yessir.” She told him, then put the phone back on the table and let out a long breath.

 

When she looked back up, Logan was framed as a shadow against the windows, his eyes glittering in the darkness. Instead of slowing down at their separation, her heart rate immediately went right back up.

 

He took a step toward her, and her brain suddenly remembered the carefully prepared speech she had practiced on the way over.

 

“Wait!” He froze, uncertain, doubt flitting across his features, as she pointed at him and tried to ignore the fact that her hand was shaking and her voice was still breathy.

 

“We should have a talk like ractual… like actual, reasonable… about mature communication.”

 

(Damn again. When was the last time she was left incoherent by a _kiss?_ She had had entire romantic getaways that didn’t leave her feeling this dazed.)

 

After a moment of translation, Logan’s shoulders relaxed. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say your brains just got scrambled.” He commented with a smug, masculine grin.

 

In spite of herself, she found her lips tugging upwards, and shook her head at him in exasperation. “I had a whole speech ready.” She informed him. “About the importance of honesty and communication.”

 

He drew closer. “Did you now?” He asked in a low rumble.

 

Heat spread across her face before diving downward. The last vestiges of rational thought clamored about the time, the case, the story… the outline of his shoulders, the shape of his lips…

 

_Focus, Veronica! His sister’s life is at stake!_

 

“W-we… um...” She regretfully gestured to the clock. “We should go. For Trina...”

 

“Right.” He didn’t move. “We should.”

 

For a moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing, both patterns a little faster than normal. She caught the tiniest hint of fear and hurt flicker in his eyes as he started to turn away. In a small, hesitant voice, she offered softly, “But… after?”

 

The pure relief and happiness that crossed his face twisted her heart.

 

“Yeah.” He managed with a small, hopeful smile. “After.”

 

Barely resisting the urge to straighten his rumpled blue henley, Veronica busied her hands by pulling at her own shirt and trying to fix her hair. Clearly unable to focus on two tasks at once with the heat of Logan’s gaze still on her, she nearly turned her ankle as her boot heel slipped on the polished wood floor.

 

He caught her before she hit the floor, and as she gripped his forearms for stability, a distant part of her mind wondered how much he worked out because her hand is only encircling half of his bicep and it feels like a damn steel support.

 

Swallowing, forcing lightness into her voice, she said, “Maybe you should drive.”

  
Logan smiled slightly, caramel eyes warm. “Echolls chauffeur service, reporting for duty. I live to serve.”


	12. I’m a shot through the dark

Nothing sobered her mood as quickly as the sight of the large black duffel bag full of cash, sitting in the back seat of Logan’s car. Its weight drove away any thoughts of happiness or anxiety with whatever was happening between her and Logan and instead gave her a whole new set of worries.

 

So many things could go wrong. They could find Logan’s wire (which reminded her, she needed to give that to him), Connor Fitzpatrick could make the call to Trina’s location from a different phone, the cloning program might not work, Carl and his officers might not get to Trina and David in time, Connor’s cronies might not let them go, the Fitzpatricks might decide to beat Logan up and hold _him_ hostage instead-

 

“Hey.” A light touch on her arm startled her out of her thoughts. “It’ll be okay.”

 

She let out a disbelieving chuckle as she tried to ignore how easily he could read her. “Oh yes. Ransom drops and police stings have such a reassuring history of going perfectly according to plan.”

 

“I’m not worried.” His voice was perfectly calm, and she couldn’t understand why.

 

“Oh? Got an ace in the hole I should know about?”

 

“Yeah. You.”

 

She looked over and saw the confidence in his eyes. Marveling, and somewhat frightened by his faith in her, she shook her head. “Logan…”

 

“Hey. There is no one else I’d rather have watching my back than you.”

 

Chest tight, she was still trying to think of a response when, with classic Logan snark, he added, “Okay, that’s a lie. Besides Chuck Norris, there’s no one else.”

 

That earned him a small laugh.

 

“Actually, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Him too. Or a robot. Wait, how about Arnold as the Terminator, but the one from Terminator 2?”

 

She knew he was trying to distract her, and his thoughtfulness warmed her and quieted her fears.

 

Until they parked.

 

Veronica was having difficulty breathing as what Logan was about to do hit her.

 

“Damnit. I forgot the wire.” Logan muttered.

 

“Oh, um, Rob gave it to me after…” She left the sentence unfinished as she fumbled in her bag.

 

_After you left. After I accused you (again). After you told me I always had a foot out the door. After I believed the worst of you._

 

“Here.” She handed him the wire and a roll of medical tape. “Battery pack clips onto the waistband, make sure the microphone is less than a foot away from your chin, tape the wire to your chest so it doesn’t get caught on something.”

 

_Are we this volatile? Flying apart, crashing together, then starting all over again? Isn’t that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? Every time we try-_

“You alright?” Logan asked in concern, as he took off his leather jacket and pulled his shirt over his head.

 

She blinked at him and tried not to ogle. “Yeah.”

 

“Could you…?” He gestured helplessly as he held the wire in one hand, the tape in the other, and attempted to clip on the battery pack.

 

“I can try,” she said, grabbing the tape.

 

“Do or do not,” He told her in a rasping voice. “There is no try.”

 

Sitting back, she raised an eyebrow. “Did you just quote Yoda at me?”

 

“Do not be angry, tiny one. Anger leads to hate-”

 

She rolled her eyes as she tore off a piece of tape. “Such a nerd.”

 

“Everyone knows Star Wars, Veronica. It’s not just a nerd thing. Get with the times.”

 

She shook her head at him and did her best to ignore his six-pack abs (alright, she didn’t ignore them, but she didn’t drool, which should be counted as a victory since _there were actually six of them_ ) as she taped the wire into place and tried focus on something else. Anything else.

 

_Maybe that’s my problem. I try. I attempt. I give it a chance, but I always have a back-up plan. An escape route._

_Do or do not._

_There is no try._

_(Dear God, now I’m the nerd.)_

 

“I am proud” fell out of her mouth and she winced at the non-sequitur. Unwilling to meet Logan’s eyes just yet, she added softly, “of you, I mean. For getting help. For… I know it couldn’t have been easy. And I’m…”

 

She placed the last piece of tape on his chest with shaking hands, watching it rise and fall with his breathing, aware of how still the rest of him was.

 

“...I’m glad.” She finished, clicking on the battery pack and placing her earpiece in her ear before finally meeting his gaze.

 

Logan stared at her, hazel eyes dark and full and intent on her face.

 

She cleared her throat in embarrassment. “Say something.”

 

“Veronica,” and her name is heavy with longing and tenderness and she belatedly realized he didn’t know the whole Palm Valley police department could hear them.

 

“For the wire. To test it.” She rushed to explain, pointing to the microphone and then her ear.

 

Logan winced. “Ah. Test test.”

 

Veronica heard him loud and clear, as well as a distant giggle she was sure belonged to Leticia.

 

“We can hear him, Veronica. Thanks for joining us.” The captain said in a professional tone. “What’s your location?”

 

She leaned forward so the mic would pick up her voice. “We’re at 32nd and Pine. He’ll head out in just a minute.”

 

As Veronica sat back, she asked, “Do you want an earpiece? I can get one from the captain-”

 

“No. We’re taking a big enough risk with the wire. The fewer clues they get about this the better.” He answered as he tugged his shirt back on (much to her libido’s disappointment). Shrugging on his leather jacket and grabbing the duffel bag from the back seat, he paused with the door half-open.

 

“Be careful.”

 

Veronica almost laughed at the irony, but bit her lip instead. “You too.”

 

She watched him walk away, filled with a sudden terror that she’d never see him again. He was half a block away when she bolted out of the car.

 

“Logan!”

 

He turned back, eyes questioning and concerned as she ran up to him.

 

“I’m sorry.” The words started to tumble out of her mouth. “I’m so sorry I accused you. I should have just asked, I shouldn’t have looked in the first place, and you were right, I was looking for the worst, and I should have trusted you and in case anything happens I want you to know that I’m sor-”

 

He stopped her with a kiss, gentle and caressing and slow, then rested his forehead against her own with a shuddering, relieved breath.

 

She peeked up at him hesitantly. “We okay?”

 

If she didn’t know him better, she would have thought he was fighting back tears.

 

“Yeah.” He answered hoarsely, pressing his lips to her forehead. “We’re okay.”

 

(“What the hell is happening?” Seth’s voice growled over her earpiece.

 

“If you don’t know what sexual tension sounds like, it’s no wonder she dumped you.” Leticia snarked.)

 

Ignoring the peanut gallery in her ear, Veronica stood on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth.

 

“For luck.” She whispered. “Be safe.”

 

He kissed her forehead again. “I will.”

 

The captain coughed as she watched Logan cross the street. “Let’s cut the chatter on comms. Everyone in position.”

 

That included her, so she went back to the car and slung her bag over her shoulder. Armed with her long lens, she searched for an advantageous point of view. She settled on a slight slope that allowed her a view of the back of the warehouse, where Connor, Cravinski, and three henchmen were already gathered.

 

She took a deep breath. “Alright. Showtime.”

 

Logan sauntered up. “Well, hello, gentlemen, fancy seeing you here.”

 

The others were not amused.

 

“Where’s my money?” Connor demanded.

 

“Easy. All good things to those who wait.” Logan replied in mock rebuke, unzipping the duffel bag and showing them all the bundles of cash.

 

Cravinski gleefully advanced until Logan swung the bag out of reach. “Not so fast. I want to talk to Trina.” He locked eyes with Connor. “I assume you’re the man in charge?”

 

“Atta boy,” she whispered, knowing that Connor now had to prove he was the one calling the shots.

 

He pulled out his phone and started dialing. “Sam. Put the girl on.”

 

She heard Rob speak into his headset, “Tracing now. Stand by for location.”

 

Connor put the call on speakerphone, then held it out to Logan.

 

Never taking his eyes off the mafia boss, Logan called out, “Trina?”

 

A tinny, hysterical voice answered. “Logan? Oh thank God! I knew you’d help, I knew… just give them whatever they want, okay? Just, just… get me out of here.”

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

“No, I’m okay, but Dave needs to get to hospital. Please, Logan, just give them the money.”

 

Logan reached behind him and hefted the bag. “Tell your man to let them go.”

 

Connor smugly put the phone up to his ear.

 

“On speakerphone.” Logan demanded in a deceptively soft tone.

 

His mouth twisted into a sneer, but he left the speakerphone on. “Sam. Escort our guests out, will you? They’ve overstayed their welcome.”

 

Logan waited until Trina’s cries of surprise turned into tearful relief.

 

“Alright, boss. They’re both out on the street.”

 

“Location confirmed! On the corner of 18th and Cedar, near the truck stop.” Rob shouted, and Veronica breathed a little easier.

 

Tossing the bag past Connor, Logan told him, “There. You have your money. We’re done here.”

 

Veronica clicked away as Cravinski held the bag out to Connor and the other two men tried to sneak a peek at the money.

 

Wait. Two?

 

“What do we have here?” A low, suspicious voice asked.

 

_Shit._

 

She looked up in surprise. Hello Henchman Number 3. “Oh, sorry, am I trespassing? I was trying to take some night shots of the bats, but I didn’t see any signs or anything.”

 

Number Three glanced from her, to her camera, to the clear view of the exchange, then back to her.

 

Squinting in thought, he said, “Wait. Don’t I know you?”

 

Shit. He was with Connor at the restaurant.

 

“Do you? I mean, I do have one of those faces-”

 

He grabbed her arm in an iron grip. “You’re coming with me.”

 

“Oh, I don’t think that’s really necessary-” She squeaked as she shoved her camera back into her bag. Number Three dragged her none too gently down the hill and yelled for Connor.

 

Shit shit _shit_.

 

As he held up her arm like she was a prize trout, she saw Logan’s face grow pale in the darkness. She tried to give him the tiniest of head shakes.

 

“Boss, isn’t this the girl from the restaurant? She was taking pictures of us from up on that hill.”

 

Weren’t minions supposed to be stupid? She was fairly certain media had spoiled her for bumbling, brainless sidekicks.

 

Connor narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

Shit shit shit _shit shit._

 

“Oh my God, do you own this place? I tried to tell him that I didn’t mean to trespass, but he wouldn’t lis-” The grip on her arm tightened and the fearful yelp she made wasn’t as fake as she wished.

 

Cravinski spun to face Logan, “Is this some kind of trick? What are you trying to do?”

 

Logan, after one searching glance at Veronica, held up his arms in protest and anger. “Whoa, whoa, what am I trying to do? What are you trying to pull? This is you covering your tracks for trying to blackmail me next, isn’t it? You're blackmailing people coming and going with your nice little racket here, aren’t ya?”

 

“This isn’t on me-”

 

“Cravinski, shut up.” Connor ordered, then leaned into Veronica’s face, baring his teeth. “Amber, right? I’m not going to ask again. What the hell are you doing out here, taking photos of us for?”

 

“Okay, look. Sometimes I sell pictures of famous people to tabloids. I know he’s kinda famous, so I thought I’d follow him around and just get a few photos.” She pointed at Logan with her free hand and let her voice waver. “I swear, I don’t know what’s going on. I - I can give you my sim card, okay? That way I don’t have anything, and I don’t know anything, and then I can go, right?”

 

Logan’s eyes flicked to her, confused, as she reached into her bag.

 

“I’m just going to grab my sim card, okay?” She said, then mouthed _‘Three’_ at Logan.

 

He furrowed his brows, then his eyes widened in comprehension as she silently said _‘Two’_ and started to ease her taser out of the messenger bag.

 

Shaking his head vehemently, he tried to warn _‘Don’t’_ without sound, then took stock of where all five men were standing.

 

_‘One.’_

 

She wrenched herself out of the henchman’s grip and jammed 300,000 volts into his arm. Once he went down, she kicked him in the face to make sure he stayed that way.

 

Logan took advantage of the commotion to suckerpunch Cravinski and slam into minion number two. The crony was clearly tougher than Cravinski, though, and slugged Logan in the face before he returned the favor. Logan grabbed both of their shirt collars and banged their heads together. Desperately hoping Carl and the rest of their backup was on their way, Veronica pepper sprayed the last henchman standing, then tasered him in the neck.

 

“Freeze bitch!” Connor shouted, a small silver gun pointed right at her.

 

Veronica stopped, then put her hands up in surrender.

 

“Drop ‘em.” He demanded, jerking the point of the gun at her hands, and she reluctantly let her mace and taser fall to the ground.

 

Connor swung the gun over to Logan, who was trying to sneak up on him. “You stop right there, you son of a bitch.” He reached out to grab the duffel bag, then started backing away. “Either one of you moves, I’ll shoot both of you.”

 

“Give it up, Connor.” Logan called out, pulling out Veronica’s fake badge from his jacket pocket. “We’ve got you surrounded. It’s best if you just turn yourself in.”

 

Veronica knelt down to grab her taser, then slowly eased toward a rubbish pile in the back of the lot, watching as Connor barked an ugly laugh. “Like hell. You’ve got nothin’ on me.”

 

As if on cue, a police siren echoed in the night air. Connor jumped like a startled rabbit at the flashing lights, then glared back at Logan. “ _You_. You set this up.”

 

“Just put the gun down.” He ordered in a soothing voice.

 

“You son of a bitch, you’ll pay for this. No one sets me up!” Connor snarled, lifting his gun to aim at Logan’s head. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.”

 

With her own sneer of defiance, Veronica threw a jagged piece of rubble at Connor with devastating accuracy, fear for Logan's life giving her strength. The block smashed into his knee, loosening his grip and sending the gun skittering across the cement. She called out his name, then tossed her taser to Logan as he closed in.

 

The mafia leader growled, then his eyes lit on Veronica in a murderous rage. Scrabbling on the ground as Logan rushed towards him, Connor finally reached his gun, stood back up, then pulled the trigger.

 

A scream split the air, then was swallowed up by the approaching sirens.

  
**_“NO!”_ **


	13. I'm a black sinkhole

_(Veronica!)_

 

She’s five years old, on her first day of kindergarten, desperately clutching her raggedy stuffed pony in one hand and two of her father’s fingers in the other.

 

“I don’t wanna go,” She tells him, tugging on his arm, terrified he’ll leave her alone in this strange place.

 

The other kids either give her curious glances or ignore her, and she just wants to go back home with her puppy and pony and Mommy and Daddy and be safe.

 

Keith kneels down, a comforting smile on his face. “I know. But you’ve gotta be tough, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but I also know how brave you are.”

 

“I don’t wanna be brave. I just wanna stay with you.”

 

_(Veronica, please, stay with me)_

 

Keith tries to resist her giant blue eyes, then shakes his head, giving her a gentle, loving grin. “Alright. I’ll stay. But just for a little bit, okay?”

 

“Okay, Daddy.” She beams at him and walks in the room with overflowing confidence.

 

Nothing bad can happen to her now.

 

_(Just hang on, you’re going to be fine)_

_(Please, God, let her be fine)_

She’s fourteen, and a wild kick from a girl on the opposing team slashes her knee and blood is flowing down into her sock, soaking the white cotton in red. The coach brings her to the sidelines and sets her down on the bench.

 

“Veronica, where’s your mom?” He asks, looking around the clusters of other soccer parents at the tournament.

 

“I don’t know,” She gulps, tearing up at the pain. “She was talking to Mr. Kane, but I don’t know where she is now.”

 

_(I’m right here, it’s gonna be okay)_

 

“C’mon, let’s get you to the medic.” He says, and supports one of her shoulders, but she can’t walk with half her weight on her bad leg. Suddenly, tall, lanky shoulders slide under her other arm.

 

“Logan! Is Duncan’s game over yet?” She asks in surprise; unsure why he's here, why he's helping.

 

“Nope.” He doesn’t meet her eyes, but helps her hobble to the medic’s tent anyway.

 

_(Goddamnit I’m not leaving her!)_

 

“Okay, sweetie, I’m going to send someone to find your mom,” Coach tells her as the medic warns that this might sting, then there’s a press of cold cloth to her knee and it hurts like nothing else she’s ever experienced. She yelps and grabs the first thing her hand can find and squeezes her eyes shut and tries her best not to cry.

 

“Count your breaths.” A sullen voice tells her.

 

She opens one eye. “What?”

 

Logan sighs, annoyed, but doesn’t let go of her hand. “Count when you breathe. Breathe in, count to three, hold your breath, count to three, then let it out and count to three. It’ll help it not hurt so much.”

 

“O-okay.” She tries. “In one two three, hold one two _three!”_ She shrieks the last word as the medic pulls out an embedded rock and she yanks Logan’s hand, pulling him closer.

 

He sounds slightly less exasperated as he stands next to her. “With me, Ronnie. C’mon. In one two three, hold...”

 

“One two three,” She whispers, and notices he’s tapping the fingers of his free hand on her arm. “Out one two three. In one two three, hold one two three, out one two-”

 

“Logan!” An angry voice barks from outside, and he jerks in instinctual fear. He looks at her, then starts to step away.

 

“No! Don’t go!” She begs, holding on to his hand, terrified he’ll leave her alone.

 

_(It’s okay, Veronica, I’m not leaving)_

 

“Please. Stay.”

 

_(I'm here, I'm right here)_

 

He hesitates, looks outside to see Mr. Echolls shout for him again, then stop and sign something for one of the moms, then looks back to Veronica, her eyes wide and wet and scared.

 

“Alright,” He says, meeting her gaze for the first time. “But just until you’re all fixed up, okay?”

 

She nods in relief, then tugs him until he’s standing next to her again, tapping out the rhythm of their breaths.

 

_(Just breathe for me, okay? You can do it)_

_(Breathe in, breathe out. Damnit Veronica, come on!)_

She’s eighteen, standing outside his door, most of her ready to bolt at the first sign of activity, part of her replaying his speech from the night before, and a tiny percentage is buzzing with hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be it.

 

Everything they went through had to mean something, right? It had to.

 

It had to mean something that years with Duncan couldn’t come close to that one summer she had with Logan (that if she had to admit it, the cuddling was the best part), that she still got goosebumps when she thought about that kiss on the balcony of the Camelot. That she was never happier than those moments in his arms, that the glimpses of a genuine Logan loving her made her feel warm and safe and whole.

 

But she also remembers his anger, his cutting words, his destructive darkness, and starts to turn back to the elevator. How did she know he wouldn’t slip right back into his old pattern? That he wouldn’t hurt her again?

 

_“I’m sorry. About last summer.” His eyes were red, face desperate, voice begging. “You know, if I could do it over…”_

_(I’m so sorry)_

She hesitates, bites her lip, then turns around, goes back to the door.

 

Maybe he was right. Maybe they were epic.

 

Spanning years, continents.

 

_(I’m sorry I took so long)_

Lives ruined. Bloodshed.

 

_(God, there's so much blood)_

 

Epic.

 

For the first time, she lets herself hope, lets herself believe.

 

Maybe this is their second chance.

 

Maybe she doesn't have to be alone.

 

_(Don’t do this, Veronica. Don’t leave me)_

 

Her hand feels heavy, but she raises it to the door.

 

She knocks.

 

* * *

 

“Where is she?” Keith Mars demanded as he rushed to the front desk, Eli Navarro close behind him.

 

“I’m sorry, sir, you’re going to have to be a little more specific.” The nurse told him with a raise of her eyebrows.

 

“She just got out of surgery,” a low, drained voice answered, and the men turn around to see Logan hunched over in a chair, a few bandaged cuts on his bruised cheek. “They’re not letting anyone see her yet.”

 

Keith and Weevil exchanged concerned glances, then made their way over to him.

 

“We heard part of it on the police scanner. What happened at the sting?” Keith asked, voice low.

 

“One… one of Connor’s men found her taking pictures on the hill and brought her to the drop site. She tased him, and we… we took down his men, but Connor… he had a gun. He…” Logan looked up, haunted. “He was going to kill me, but Veronica threw something at him and he dropped his gun. She tossed me her taser, but he grabbed his gun and… I knocked him down, but he had already…”

 

The fact that he was two words away from breaking into sobs and didn’t even care spoke volumes about how spent he was.

 

“Family of Veronica Mars?” A nurse called out, and Keith clapped a comforting hand on Logan’s shoulder before disappearing behind the swinging doors.

 

(The nurse peered back at the waiting room. “Did her… husband? Fiance? Did he want to…?” She trailed off at Keith’s confused look. “Oh, sorry, I just thought, with the way she…”

 

Keith furrowed his brows. “The way she… what?”

 

“Oh, well, she… it’s just that…” She glanced back at Logan. “She wouldn’t let go of his hand. He came with her in the ambulance, and she wouldn’t let go when we transferred her to the gurney, not even when we sedated her.”

 

Keith stared at her, then turned back to regard the young man slumped in his chair, head in his hands, the picture of anxiety and exhaustion. He let out a fatherly sigh, made of concern, gratitude, and a bit of resignation.

 

“She’s not awake yet, but I’ll let you know what we’ve done so far.” The nurse told him as she led the way down the hall.)

 

Logan and Eli sat in apprehensive silence, both looking up every time the doors opened, neither willing to speak.

 

“Oh my God, Logan!” Trina’s voice called across the waiting room, and Logan moved to meet her. After a hug, he gave her a once-over to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Dave is pretty beat up, but they gave him some painkillers and said he was lucky and only has a couple cracked ribs.” She attempted a smile.

 

“You sure you’re not hurt?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“Then _what the hell were you thinking?”_

 

Trina blinked and Eli sat up in surprise at the vehemence in his voice.

 

“Connor’s men told the cops all about how Dave is one of their dealers and he got you too hooked to quit and they bled you dry until you told them all about your rich little brother who would totally bail you out.”

 

Trina started fidgeting. “What was I supposed to do?”

 

“You were supposed to listen to me. To take the money and go to rehab. To get help!”

 

“Logan, it wasn’t my fault-”

 

“Not your _fault?_ Do you have any idea what could have happened tonight?”

 

“I know you could have gotten killed, but-”

 

“Who the hell cares if I get killed - you almost got _Veronica_ killed!” His voice was angry and breaking and Trina flushed in shame.

 

“Hey, don't you talk to her like that!” A large man who looked like he was perpetually angry shouted as he came up, bruised but still ready for a fight.

 

To Logan’s great surprise, Eli stood and got in his face. “You might want to walk away right now.”

 

“Yeah? What you going to do about it, punk?”

 

Weevil simply stared him down, his eyes slowly filling with danger, shoulders straightening, and a mocking sneer on his lips, baring his canines.

 

The other man suddenly seemed unsettled, gulped once, and took a small step backward.

 

“I’ll do it.” Trina said quietly. “I'll go.”

 

The group turned to look at her, and she explained softly, “I didn’t think they’d… I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

 

Logan studied her a moment, then said, “I'll get you a cab.”

 

After sending Trina off (and bribing the cabbie to not stop until they got to Second Chances, and to call him when she checked in (one of the police officers appeared to take Dave away, saying something about keeping him safe until he could testify)), Logan slouched back into the uncomfortable waiting room chair and resumed his staring contest with the hospital doors.

 

“That's a good thing you did,” came almost casually from his left. Logan looked and saw Eli engrossed in a car magazine.

 

He ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, well. It helped me, so…”

 

There was a small flash of surprise as Eli processed that information, and Logan felt the need to add, “And thanks for… you know. Jumping in.”

 

He could feel Weevil’s stare, then heard, “Yeah. No problem.” After a slight pause, the magazine pages folded together and landed on the side table. “I gotta keep in practice, otherwise my intimidating gang leader cred goes down.”

 

Logan felt his mouth twitch up for the first time in hours. “Of course. Don't want anyone to think you're going soft.”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

Taking a breath, Logan tried to enter new conversational territory. “Although, I hear you're not a gang leader any more.”

 

“Nah. I'm legit now.” Eli reached into his pocket and flipped open his P.I. badge. “Passed the exams last year, right before Valentina was born.”

 

Logan took it, then smiled as he gave it back. “Congrats, man. Valentina your little girl?”

 

Eli studied him, then took that as the invitation all new parents need to show off their children. He pulled out his phone and passed it over. “Yeah. She's sixteen months old now.”

 

A picture of a baby with curly hair and dark eyes grinned up at him while she tried to eat a toy car.

 

“She's beautiful.” Logan said, and was surprised to realize he meant it.

 

“Yeah, she gets her looks from her mom.” Eli reached over and swiped through a few photos to show him the same baby being held by a gorgeous Latina.

 

“Damn man, you really out-punted your coverage. What's her name?”

 

Eli laughed. “Don't I know it. Her name is Jade, and I honestly have no clue how I got this lucky.”

 

Logan grinned half-heartedly, then turned back to the gray doors.

 

“What's it like?” He asked softly after a few minutes. “Being a dad. Having a family.”

 

Eli gave him a measuring look, then answered, “Honestly? It's damn terrifying.”

 

Logan gave a weak laugh.

 

“But it’s pretty damn amazing too.” The shorter man leaned forward. “You know, they talk about how important it is to have,” he sarcastically emphasized the next phrase “ _good male role models_ , or some shit.”

 

A caustic grin spread across Logan’s face. “Wouldn’t know anything about that.”

 

“But you know, when Valentina looks at me, she doesn’t care who I was, or what I’ve done. She loves me, no matter what. And as terrifying as that is… it makes me want to be who she thinks I am. All I want to do now is just be there for her, and every decision I make now is about keeping her safe. Making sure I _can_ be there for her.”

 

He glanced over, then added, “Plus, I get to look forward to scaring the shit out of her dates.”

 

Logan barked a short laugh, then was spared from becoming more emotional than either man could handle by the arrival of a nurse.

 

“Mr. Navarro, Mr. Echolls, Ms. Mars is awake, if you’d like to see her.”

 

As they stood, Logan settled on giving Eli a firm nod, hoping it conveyed his gratitude. Eli returned the gesture gravely, then both men followed the nurse past the gray doors.

 

One phrase kept echoing in Logan’s mind over the sudden pounding of his heart as they walked down to Veronica’s room.

  
_All I want to do now is just be there for her._


	14. If it weren't for second chances...

For some reason, Logan hung back once they made it to Veronica’s room.

 

“Hey, V. How you feeling?” Eli asked as he came in.

 

She smiled wanly. “I’m good! Besides the fact that they gave me a beautiful cocktail of painkillers, I only got hit in the thigh, so it’s not a big deal.”

 

Weevil raised an eyebrow. “Usually getting shot anywhere is kinda a big deal. Not for me, because I’m a badass, but you know, for other people.”

 

“Doctors said that it just missed her bone and the femoral artery.”  Keith told him, reaching out to hold Veronica’s hand. “Half an inch to the side…”

 

Veronica glanced briefly at Logan, then shook her head with a smile. “Hey, Logan’s the one who took him down before he could ruin my beautiful face. I mean, what if I couldn’t skate by on my looks anymore?”

 

“It’d be a damn tragedy, you having to use your brain.” Eli agreed with a grin.

 

“I know, right? Luckily, just my leg. I mean, who even uses their legs?”

 

“It’s a good thing they didn’t have to amputate,” Keith added seriously. “You’re barely tall enough to go on the rides at Disneyland as it is.”

 

Veronica’s sardonic look did much in convincing everyone she was going to be alright. “Seriously, Dad? A short joke? From you?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith protested.

 

“I’ve had guys go down screaming at the thought of blood, so you’re tough, I’ll give you that.” Eli told her fondly.

 

“Oh, that reminds me. Eli, I bring a message to you from the other side.” Veronica told them in a spooky voice.

 

“You do, huh? Is Abuelo pissed that I threw away his bolo ties?”

 

“No, it’s much more serious than that. The spirits have told me to say…” She tried to maintain her poker face. “That you need to shave your head. All that fuzz makes you look like a Chia pet.”

 

Weevil shook his head and stifled a grin. “Oh, well, you tell the spirits that I need to talk it over with my wife.”

 

“Oh, Jade totally agrees with me. We just didn’t know how to break it to you.” Veronica informed him.

 

“You two becoming friends has made my life much more difficult, you know that?” He teased. “Speaking of, I should probably let her know you’re okay.”

 

Veronica checked the time. “Oh no! You missed putting Tina to bed, I’m so sorry.”

 

Eli raised an eyebrow. “V, you got shot. The only people who should be sorry is any of the Fitzpatricks who run into me. Besides, I’ll bring the whole gang in tomorrow, if you’re feeling alright.”

 

Veronica smiled warmly. “I'd love that. Tell Tina Tia Veronica says hello.”

 

“Will do. Night, chica.”

 

“Later, vato.” She called in response, and with a parting wave, Eli headed out.

 

Logan tried to stifle the surge of envy at how close they seemed. There was an ease about their relationship, a sense of respect, of solidity, of a reliance built on years of trust. She probably hadn’t accused Eli of - well, it was Veronica, so maybe she had.

 

Keith patted her hand. “You sure you’re feeling alright, honey?”

 

Veronica gave him an exasperated look. “For the fifth time, yes, Dad. I feel fine. Besides, this is honestly the best career move I could have made.”

 

“Is it now?” Keith asked with a slight grin.

 

“Absolutely. I’m pretty sure this qualifies me for hazard pay, plus, there’s an unofficial rule that when reporters get together, the one with the best battlewound from a story drinks for free.” She pointed to her covered leg. “Free drinks for life!”

 

Keith chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you have your priorities straight.”

 

“Always, Daddy-o.” She winked at him, then looked at Logan, still leaning silently against the corner of the room.

 

“Hey Dad, d’you think you can use those legendary Mars investigation skills and rustle me up some extra pudding cups?” Veronica stuck out her lower lip and widened her eyes persuasively.

 

“You’re putting me on the pudding cup case? This could be it, kiddo, the one that gets me to the big leagues.” Keith smiled.

 

“I have no doubt.” Veronica nodded seriously in agreement.

 

After standing, Keith dropped a kiss on the top of her head, gave Logan a look of his own, then headed into the hallway. “I’ll be back in just a bit.”

 

Once they were alone, Logan examined Veronica carefully, taking in her face pale from the loss of blood, her bruised arm, cut up hands, the bump of her bandaged leg under the blankets, the various tubes and cords surrounding her bed.

 

When he met her gaze, he realized she was doing the same to him. He realized he must look a mess, dark-rimmed red eyes, cuts on his face and arm, bloodied knuckles, plus the large bruise blossoming on his face.

 

“We make quite a picture, huh?” She said with a small smile.

 

Logan tried to return the gesture. “Yeah. I bet.”

 

“How’s Trina?”

 

“She’s okay. Her boyfriend was pretty beat up, but I can’t say I feel sorry for him. Turns out he’s one of the Fitzpatrick’s drug dealers.”

 

“Sounds like a real Prince Charming.” Veronica commented drily. “Think she’ll dump him after this?”

 

Logan sighed. “Not sure. She did go to Second Chances though, which is… something.”

 

She gave him a small smile. “It’s a good start.”

 

Silence descended again as she opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and stared at the covers instead. He waited her out as she glanced at him, eyes intent, biting her lip, clearly wanting to ask him something.

 

“Hey, um,”

 

There it was.

 

Her voice was hesitant. “If I ask you a question, do you promise to tell me the truth?”

 

For a moment, he just looked at her, then let out the ghost of a chuckle. “That sounds like a dangerous game, Mars.”

 

When she didn’t look away, Logan gave her a measuring glance, then answered. “Tell you what. I will if you will.”

 

Veronica blinked in confusion.

 

“A truth for a truth.” He told her, then watched her reaction. She swallowed, her shoulders tensing slightly. He knew this was something the old Veronica would never do. She would never risk revealing herself, her secrets, her truths. Especially not to him. Old scars and memories would remind her that she shouldn’t trust anyone, should never give them the tools to break her, a light to to shine in her dark corners.

 

But this wasn’t the old Veronica.

 

“Deal.” She told him, holding out her hand. There was still a trace of hesitation, but her voice was clear and steady. He stepped forward, shook her hand, then sat in the chair next to her bed.

 

“Ladies first.”

 

She looked down at her hands, then asked softly, “Why do you have all my articles?”

 

Logan stared. That was not what he expected.

 

There was a slight pause. “Do you want the long version or the short version?” He asked finally.

 

Veronica attempted a grin. “I don’t have any immediate plans.”

 

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, trying to think of where to begin.

 

“It turns out that rehab isn’t as ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ as you might think. It’s mainly… boring. Besides the lovely nine days of detox, anyway. There’s a lot of therapy sessions, things like that. But a lot of it is just sitting around. And while I like reading as much as the next guy, there are only so many times one can read dime-store romance novels and self-help books. But they did have a couple newspapers delivered there, so I grabbed those.”

 

He gave her a sarcastic grin. “I just love reading the comics. That Garfield. Such a hoot.”

 

She smiled back, then waited for him to continue.

 

“Anyway, they got all the local papers, including the Hearst college paper.” Veronica’s eyebrows shot up as several pieces of information came together. “And imagine my surprise when the only article worth reading in there had ‘by Veronica Mars’ on top. So, every week, I collected the paper for myself, ordered some of the back issues as well.”

 

He shifted slightly, then continued, “I was in rehab longer than most, since they tend to let you out earlier if you have a ‘stable support system’, you know, friends, family, things like that. I, however, had Dick.” Logan looked up to clarify, “The person, not… no one.”

 

Guilt flickered across her face, but she didn’t interrupt.

 

“Anyway, they wanted to keep me around for a bit. Outpatient stuff, sober living community, the works, and I needed all the decent reading material I could find. It took a little bit of work to figure out you had transferred to Stanford the next year, but once I figured it out, I got that paper too.”

 

He shrugged. “After that, it just became a habit. Part of therapy is replacing bad habits with new ones, like working out, learning a new hobby, or reading. Something to do instead of having a drink. Besides, watching you direct your wit at the world instead of just me was incredibly satisfying.”

 

Logan paused, unsure if he should admit the next part, but isn’t that what she had asked for? The truth?

 

“The short version is... it was the only way I could hear your voice.” He finished, then glanced up at Veronica’s face.

 

Multiple emotions flitted through her eyes, and, unsure if he was ready for her response, he decided to take his chance.

 

“My turn.” He said, and Veronica went very still.

 

His heart suddenly pounding in his chest, he bit his lip, then asked quickly, “W-what did I say to you that night?”

 

Her mouth dropped open, then she let out a slow breath.

 

“What do you remember?”

 

Logan attempted a grin. “Doubling up, huh?” He stared at a spot on the floor. “I… I just remember talking to you at school, and how you said that after you graduate, you never have to think of anyone from high school ever again, and you sounded so… so glad. And I realized that I was one of the reasons you were so happy to leave. Why it was so terrible. “

 

“Logan…” her voice was soft, rueful, but he couldn’t meet her gaze just yet.

 

“Y’know, the way I treated you after Lilly… and how angry I was even when we were dating, and when we broke up, how I couldn’t stand to see you with…” He took a ragged breath. “I realized that you couldn’t wait to leave everyone behind. Looking back at everything that had happened, I couldn’t even blame you.”

 

Shaking his head, he said, “I had just always thought that there was... more to our story. More to us than just one summer in high school. I never even considered that you just wanted to get out and never look back. To leave,” he changed the word he was going to use, “...all of it behind.”

 

He coughed. “Anyway. I started chugging down champagne once the party started, and... that’s all I remember from that night.”

 

When he finally looked up, Veronica was studiously examining the sensor on her finger. About to give up, he suddenly heard her voice, so quiet he nearly missed it, “You said we were epic.”

 

His eyes locked on her face as she continued to fiddle with her blankets.

 

“You said our story spanned years and continents, bloodshed and ruined lives.” She choked out a laugh. “I asked whether any relationship should be that hard, and you told me that no one…”

 

“...writes songs about the ones that come easy.” He finished, with a slightly questioning lilt at the end.

 

Veronica nodded, then looked at him. “How did…”

 

“I’d been thinking something like that for… years. I didn’t think I’d ever be drunk enough to tell you, though.” Logan swallowed. “What made you come back? I thought that, after everything, you never wanted to…”

 

“I guess… I hadn’t thought about never seeing you again. And I didn’t realize how much you… cared. I guess I knew that you did, but I tried not to think about it. But...”

 

She met his eyes. “I think it was that you were honest with me. About how you felt. And I wanted to at least try and keep in touch with you to see what might have...”

 

Logan let out a humorless laugh. “Until I screwed it up.”

 

Veronica watched him for a moment, hating the weight of guilt on his shoulders. “One more question.” She waited until he met her gaze, then quirked a teasing eyebrow.

 

“Dick? Seriously?”

 

She could feel the tension dissipate as Logan gave her a real smile. “I know, right? It's hard to believe, but he's… well, he hasn't matured or anything, but he's been oddly supportive. Brings me non-alcoholic beer, distracts people trying to offer me stuff, tells me he enjoys drinking for two now. He's great at company parties, since the only thing people remember is the last crazy thing he did.”

 

“Why don't you want people to know?” She asked carefully.

 

He rubbed the back of his neck and answered, “Enough of my life has been posted for public consumption. I just… want this to be for people I choose to tell.”

 

Veronica stared at him a moment. “Logan, I…”

 

“Hey kiddo. Look who I ran into down the hall.” Keith said as he came in holding a collection of pudding cups, then paused as he looked between the two of them.

 

The nurse from before waved as she followed Keith in, then said, “I’m afraid visiting hours are over, and Ms. Mars really needs to rest. You can come see her tomorrow, if you like.”

 

Veronica glanced at Logan almost hesitantly, and the corner of his mouth tugged slightly upward as he answered, “I would like.”

 

He moved as if to kiss her forehead, then checked himself and squeezed her hand instead. As he left, he looked back once with a small, wistful smile, which Veronica returned as the nurse injected her next dose of medication into the IV drip.

 

“Night, Logan.” Veronica murmured as her eyes started to close.

 

Keith suddenly felt like an intruder as a desperately aching expression crossed Logan’s face, halfway between hope and heartbreak, fondness and fear.

 

It was the look of a man who’s seen everyone he cares about leave him. A man who had finally regained something precious, and couldn’t bear the pervasive threat of loss. The double-edged joy of finally gaining your heart’s desire, and the accompanying terror of knowing it could disappear at any moment.

  
The look of a man desperately in love, who dared not hope it was returned.


	15. We'd all be alone

Logan sighed as he closed his front door. His day had been full of meetings, most of them insanely boring. He had to keep reminding himself that boring meetings meant a healthy company, but as the hours went on, he found he had to bite back razor-sharp words more and more.

 

Apparently taking a week off to run around a different town with your ex trying to track down your sister’s kidnappers didn't actually excuse you from all the work that piled up at your company.

 

Movement from the dark living room caught his eye. He froze, then tried to look around for something to use as a weapon.

 

“I think you need better security.” A smug voice informed him as he let out a sigh of relief and repressed his instinctual feeling of guilt. He clicked on the light to see Veronica grinning at him from his armchair, crutches leaned up against his end table.

 

“Please, do come in. Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured as he threw his jacket over a chair. 

 

Veronica made a show of checking the time. “And what hour do you call this, young man?”

 

He laughed as he made his way to the kitchen. “Some of us have to work for a living, Mars. Soda?”

 

“Sure.” Logan watching her carefully out of the corner of his eye as she stood up slowly, leaving her crutches behind and limping over to the kitchen. He also caught her glare, daring him to comment. Opening her soda, he handed it over with a slight smile.

 

“Been here long?”

 

“Long enough to be bored out of my skull. And I thought my hours were ridiculous.”

 

“Ah. I suppose rummaging through my things was only somewhat entertaining?”

 

“I mean, your stormtrooper outfit was good for a few laughs, but that was about it.” She took a sip. “I hope you don’t mind, I kicked the brunette twins out of your room.”

 

Logan nodded. “Should have counted on that. Did you find the redhead?”

 

Snapping her fingers in mock realization, Veronica swore, “Damn. I knew I heard giggling in the closet.”

 

Letting out a low chuckle, Logan couldn’t help but reply, “Well, you should know that I’m really only partial to blondes.”

 

He let the comment sit for a moment, testing the waters. When Veronica didn't respond (or run), Logan filed the information away and changed the subject.

 

“Anything new happening lately?”

 

“You mean besides everyone I know asking me ‘how are you doing’ in hushed tones?” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing too much. Two weeks away from work means a ton of super fun paperwork has piled up, but on the plus side, the newbies think I’m the biggest badass ever, so there’s that.”

 

Logan chuckled. “There is that.” He sipped his drink, eyeing Veronica as she tested her weight on her leg, wincing at the pain. Glancing at the counter, he asked, “So, how are you doing?”

 

Veronica heaved an exasperated sigh. “Getting really sick of that ques-”

 

He looked up. “The truth.”

 

She blinked at him, startled at the gravity in his voice, and surprised at the invocation of their previous deal.

 

After a moment of consideration, she answered, “Honestly? It sucks. My leg hurts like hell every time I try and do anything. The pain meds help, but I want to get off those before they become a hobby horse. PT is all about testing limits, which normally sounds right up my alley, but right now, walking and stretching and bending just makes me tired and cranky. So, in short, I'm not okay.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “But I will be.”

 

Logan smiled gently. “Good. Glad to hear it.”

 

Veronica watched him, pressed her lips together, and asked softly, “My turn?”

 

He quirked an eyebrow at her as he absently bent his soda tab back and forth.

 

After taking a couple breaths, she asked all in a rush, “Why didn’t you come back?”

 

The soda tab suddenly snapped off.

 

“At… at the hospital, I thought… and before, when we…” Veronica paused, trying to find the right wording. “I just… I thought you’d come see me.”

 

Picking at a spot on the counter, Logan avoided her gaze. “Yeah, I meant to. I just got swamped at work and-”

 

“I saw you.” She interrupted softly. “Outside my room at the hospital. You just stood there, staring. Then you left.”

 

“I thought you were asleep,” He said, as more of a comment than an explanation.

 

“I was in and out.” Veronica answered, watching as he nervously crushed the empty soda can.

 

When he didn’t add anything, Veronica took a breath, then continued, “You said you wanted to come visit me, but… you didn’t. So…” She looked up to see Logan’s shoulders tense, as if preparing for a blow. “I was… wondering why.”

 

There was a long pause, then Logan’s head tilted, his body relaxed slightly, and he glanced up almost in surprise. “Was that... an honest-to-God  _ question  _ from the Veronica Mars? Not an accusation, or a presumption, or even, dare I say, a speculation in sight?”

 

Veronica blushed. “I know I tend to… jump to conclusions and assume the worst of people, and I’m trying to be better at just… asking. And…” She peeked at him from under her brows, “and trusting.”

 

Logan blinked at her, then gave her a long, weighty stare. 

 

“Alright.” He said finally. “The truth?”

 

She nodded cautiously.

 

He fumbled for a beginning, “I…” He ran a hand through his hair as he let out a slow breath, then spoke in almost a whisper. “Your hair was stained red.”

 

Veronica furrowed her brows in confusion.

 

“There was so much blood, it… it got into your hair.” His eyes were distant, his voice low. “I’ve never seen so much blood in my life. And I’ve seen a fair amount of blood, trust me.” His mouth twisted cynically. “Mostly my own.”

 

Pressing her lips together, she did her best to keep any murderous thoughts of Logan’s father at bay and to just listen.

 

“But seeing you like that…” Logan trailed off, then met her eyes with his own haunted ones. 

 

“Everyone I love has died.” He said suddenly, startling her. “Lilly was murdered, my mom killed herself, and you...”

 

Veronica reached out to touch his arm. “I didn’t die, Logan.” She told him quietly.

 

He shook his head. “That night, I wasn’t so sure. There was so much blood, and I was so…” He let out a harsh laugh. “I’ve done a lot of stupid things, but I have never been so damn terrified as when I watched you bleed out in my arms.”

 

Meeting her gaze at last, he said, “I was terrified because I love you so damn much, and I know that terrifies  _ you _ .”

 

Veronica drew her head back in surprise.

 

“So I was stuck. I couldn’t lose you, not again. And I wanted to tell you, to finish whatever we started. But I knew that if I told you, I’d lose you. You’d run as fast as you could and leave a Veronica-shaped hole in the wall. And I’d be alone. Again.”

 

The silence was punctured by Logan tossing his soda can in an arc into the trash can. “So. There you have it. The truth. Whole and nothing-but-the.”

 

As she took a moment just to look at him, back against the counter, hands gripping the edge, fingers tapping in trepidation, Logan sighed and stared out the window. “I’m sorry I didn’t come in to see you. I just… I didn’t know what to say.”

 

Feeling almost as if she was approaching a frightened animal, Veronica moved towards him slowly. “Hey,” she called gently, waiting until he peered up at her. “I’m not running.” 

 

She glanced at her leg and chuckled a little. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t make it too far. Pretty sure you could catch up with me in no time.”

 

As his brown eyes searched her blue ones, Veronica drew closer and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, an echo of their first kiss on the balcony of the Camelot, all those years ago.

 

And just like that clear spring day, Logan watched her with an unreadable expression for one moment, two, then spun her into his arms to kiss her with desperate passion.

 

With her thoughts melting away into a delightfully fuzzy puddle, a smile making its way across her face, and feeling happier than she had in years, a sudden thought struck Veronica.

 

“Damn.” She muttered, and Logan pulled back immediately.

 

“Are you okay? Did I hurt your leg?” He asked anxiously as he set her on the counter.

 

“No, no, you’re fine, it’s just… do you have fifty bucks?”

 

Logan raised a teasing eyebrow. “Seems a little low for your hourly rate, but I’m sure I could swing it.”

 

She whacked his shoulder and tried to suppress her grin. “It’s for a bet.”

 

“Oh?” He inquired, hands trailing down her arms.

 

“Yeah… it’s this stupid thing between me and Mac. She bet me fifty bucks that we wouldn’t start dating, and c’mon, I know I’m slightly famous, but I’m nowhere that rich.”

 

Logan’s movement suddenly stilled. “Is that what we’re doing?” He asked cautiously.

 

“Hm?” She asked distractedly, her ability to follow their conversation already starting to dissolve under the warmth of his skin.

 

“Dating?”

 

Her eyes popped open.

 

“Oh. Um. I mean,” Veronica belatedly realized that this was probably one of those things that rational, mature people communicated about. “Yeah. I-I’d like to. If… if you want.”

 

If Logan Echolls’ signature smirks were the embodiment of irritating, the slow, gentle smile that he was giving her now was the definition of warmth.

 

“I want.” 

 

But as he moved to kiss her, Veronica couldn’t help but think of all the times before. The promising starts, the broken-hearted endings.

 

All the times he defended her. All the times she ran.

 

His anger. Her distrust.

 

It seemed that Logan had bested his demons. Could she defeat hers?

 

“I…” 

 

Logan paused at the emotion in her voice. 

 

“I want you to know that if we do this…I’m in.”

 

Logan canted his head as Veronica tried to pick her words. “I know I’m not good at the whole ‘trust’ thing,” There was a ghost of a laugh from Logan at that. “And I can’t promise I won’t get scared, or be suspicious.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “But if I have questions, I promise I will ask them first.”

 

She swallowed. “I want you to know that I don’t have an exit plan. I don’t have an escape route. And that scares the hell out of me, but I think it’s worth the risk… if it’s us.”

 

And as he stared, because he had said it to her so many times, because she had never said it back, because it terrified her to say...

 

(Because it was true.)

 

“I love you, Logan.”

 

For a moment, nothing happened.

 

Then, instead of the rush, the passion, the crashing together she expected, Logan leaned forward oh so slowly, and gently pressed his lips to her forehead, echoing the years of affection and care and protection he had always felt for her.

 

“You sure you won't run if I said I love you back?” He asked, the stubble on his chin tickling the bridge of her nose.

 

“Hmm,” She tapped her lips in thought. “Well, it’d be more like hobbling, and it’d be just down the hall to that ridiculously comfy looking king-sized bed.”

 

He pulled back to regard her with a mischievous half-grin. “Oh?”

 

She quirked an eyebrow in answer. “And I fully expect you to chase me.”

 

“I've got a better idea.” Before she knew it, Logan had literally swept her into his insanely muscular arms. “How about I carry you thataway, Officer and a Gentleman style.”

 

As Veronica put her arms around his neck, she rejoined, “I think you’d need a white uniform first. One with lots of pins and medals on it, so all the ladies would be impressed.”

 

Logan gave her a smile that heated her up all over. “I'm sure I could come up with an outfit that you would find suitably impressive.”

 

For the first time in a long, long while, Veronica laughed in pure, unadulterated joy.

 

-

 

A few days later, Veronica showed up at Wallace’s house for a meteor watching party, towing Logan behind her with one hand and preemptively holding out fifty bucks for Mac in the other. There was a general pause from everyone, then Mac whooped with joy and swooped in to hug her. Keith and Wallace followed to shake Logan’s hand and tease Veronica mercilessly, while Weevil gave Logan a solitary nod (“You men,” Veronica told him. “Always so emotional”). After whacking everyone in reach with her crutch, she went to get a hug from Jade and Valentina and coo at the twins Alexis was holding.

 

When the party moved outside, Veronica found herself sitting on a blanket, nestled under Logan’s chin as they stared up at the stars. As streaks of light made their way across the sky, she took a moment to look around at the other people gathered on the lawn. There was her dad, absently rocking one of the twins to sleep as he talked with Mac, who was swaying back and forth with the other. The Fennels were on the porch swing, Alexis’ head on Wallace’s shoulder, both clearly fighting sleep. A few blankets over, Valentina was completely passed out and drooling on Eli as she sucked her thumb. Jade brought an extra blanket over and wrapped it around them, Weevil tugging her down for a kiss as she did so.

 

Just as she started to feel the familiar ache of loneliness, she felt Logan hold her hand and run his fingers back and forth across her palm. She wanted to say something, to let him know, but-

 

_ (“Hey, if you’re scared, just say so.” Her physical therapist, Lisa, told her with a mocking shrug.) _

 

Logan caught her gaze. “Whatcha thinking about, Ace?”

 

_ (Veronica shot her a deadly look, which Lisa seemed annoyingly immune to. “I’m not scared.” She retorted. “This chair is just very comfortable is all.” _

 

_ Lisa raised an eyebrow. “You stay where you’re comfortable, you’ll never get anywhere.”) _

 

Taking a breath, Veronica pushed aside her instinct to run, and testing herself against her fear, told him, “Being with you…” Logan tilted his head at her pause, waiting for her to finish. “...makes me really happy.”

 

_ (Sighing, Veronica bit her lip and stood slowly. She took one step, then tried to put weight on her bad leg. It immediately buckled and she yelped as she fell to the padded floor. Glaring at Lisa, she asked, “Isn’t it your job to make sure I don’t fall?” _

 

_ Lisa bent down, clearly unconcerned. “You could have asked for help.”) _

 

Just as she was feeling stupid for saying anything, the corners of Logan’s mouth turned up slowly. “Yeah?”

 

_ (Grunting, Veronica tried to leverage herself up to grab the parallel bars. “I’m not really built to ask people for help.” _

 

_ Laughing, Lisa gestured at Veronica’s bandaged leg. “Well, I hate to tell you, kid, but it doesn’t really matter what you were built for, ‘cause you got broke.” _

 

_ Veronica looked up, startled. _

 

_ “And whether you were built for it or not, being broken means you got to ask people for help. Otherwise you'll never get fixed.”) _

 

“Yeah.” She told him softly, noting with gratified surprise that her fear was quieted by his response. “Stay with me?” She asked tentatively.

 

He tilted her chin up and watched the falling stars reflected in her blue eyes before kissing her.

  
“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I am so sorry about letting this just sit here for over a year. Second, thank you to everyone who read and left kudos, and especially everyone who commented. Every comment was a burst of inspiration, and helped to push me to finish this story. You are all amazing people, and I appreciate the support. If you've been a silent reader up to now, consider leaving a comment letting me know how you liked it! I hope this ending gives you all as many warm fuzzies as it gives me. LoVe forever!


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